Harrison
by Temporarily
Summary: Forty years after Voldemort's death, Harry is bored and lonely. So Luna decides the best course of action was for him to time travel and try to date Voldemort. HP/LV. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.**

Chapter 1:

Many years had passed since Voldemort's demise. Harry Potter was now a potions master (HA!) and lived in the muggle world. His main visitors were Hermione and Luna, who often tried to convince him to return to the Wizarding World. Well, Hermione did anyway. He wasn't sure what Luna came over for.

Speaking of Luna, she came over with some strange books every single time. Most dealt with necromancy, time travel and _moving on_. Harry long suspected her to be too observant for her own good.

After all, not many people knew of his crush on Voldemort.

And by not many, he meant himself and Dumbledore.

It probably started in second year, when he had first met Tom Riddle. It grew bigger in sixth year, when Dumbledore shared his backstory. Of course, he tried to reason with himself, and ultimately killed the man who had no idea he held Harry's affections. Not that he would care of course, with him being a psychopath and all, but he would try to manipulate Harry or something...

Right. Off track. After the battle, Harry tried to move on, started dating. All the rubbish he didn't care for. After five years of on-off dating, he finally called it quits and locked himself in a nice house that resembled a library more than a home.

He thought it was very telling when there were books in the _bathroom_.

He spent his days researching and brewing. Harry could finally see why Snape had greasy hair and looked like he hadn't slept in a week. Potion brewing was _intense_. So intense, Harry finally broke and joined a guild so he could get some profit out of it.

Other than that...

"Oh, _fuck_ , I _am_ lonely."

-O-

"You win, Luna."

She smiled dazedly at him, her wand safely tucked in her ear. "Hmm?"

"I'm lonely and bored."

"And?"

"I..." He choked. "I have a crush on a psychopath."

"Go on."

"Who will never love me back because he's a psychopath."

" _And_?"

"His name is fucking _Voldemort_!"

The house faced a minor earthquake that toppled many books into more disorganized piles.

Luna smiled widely, bright as the sun. "There, there. That wasn't so hard to admit, was it?"

Harry swore under his breath and skulked off.

-O-

"He's also dead," Harry announced an hour later.

"Good to see you too, Harry," Hermione said drily, barely looking up from her book.

He ignored her in favor of Luna. "Is this part of the moving on process?"

Luna blinked at him, her eyes wide, like she was innocent. "What? No. You're going to time travel to win him over."

Hermione's head shot up. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Oh, Harry's got a crush on Voldemort," Luna casually said while Harry rolled his eyes to the sky. "And we're going to send him back so he'll be happy."

"Voldemort," Hermione said flatly, closing her book and setting it aside. "Voldemort. The Dark Lord Harry killed twice, who ruined his childhood, and made our lives at Hogwarts interesting? _That_ Voldemort?"

"Well, she's not talking about the goblin king of charity," Harry said, just as flat.

"The man who's been repeatedly stated to be unable to feel love?"

"Yes, Hermione. _That_ Voldemort," Luna said calmly.

Hermione gave Harry the Look. The one that said she was analyzing everything and tearing it to pieces, bit by bit. "Harry..."

"I know Hermione. It's probably because I've been emotionally abused by the relatives, and that there are no therapists in wizarding Britain."

"To be fair, he did try to move on... twenty years ago. Remember those horrible five years?"

"Yes, Luna, I remember." Her Look didn't cease. If anything, it grew more intense. "Harry, why Voldemort?"

He shrugged. "He was hot back in the day?"

"Snake face or Tom Riddle?"

"Both."

"You have problems."

"Yes. Yes I do."

"Alright, lets get started."

Great, Hermione was protest- wait. "What?"

The Look decreased slightly. "If it takes you dating Lord Voldemort for you to let go of your crush, then who are we to judge?" She glared at Luna, who was pointedly staring in another direction. "Besides, you killed the man twice now and you're closer in age now. If you die on this adventure, I'll be horribly embarrassed."

"Hermione," Harry said, clutching the labels of his shirt.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't push it, Potter."

-O-

"Here's my suicide letter if anything goes wrong," Harry said, handing Luna a note. It said, _'Fuck I'm tired.'_

It took them twenty years of researching and experimenting with the ritual before they decided to use it. While Harry was fond of his blind luck, he wasn't going to rely on it this time. After all, Hermione had done a majority of the work for them. There was no need for luck... maybe.

Luna and Hermione had opt out of going with him. Hermione said she wasn't about to go through puberty again and Luna... well, she said a certain rabbit wouldn't let her go. Harry and Hermione were uncertain as to take that.

"Have fun, Harry," Luna said before bouncing (well as bouncy a sixty sum odd woman could be) out of the room.

Harry took a deep breath and drew his dagger. For the ritual to work, he would need to _bleed_.

And bleed.

 _And bleed._

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, HOW MUCH CAN AN OLD MAN LIKE ME BLEED?!"

-O-

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	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.**

Chapter 2:

"Excuse me," Neville said, sliding open a compartment door. "Have you seen a toad?"

There was only one boy inside, who was sitting in front of a large pile of books. He wore shades, had midnight black hair that stuck up everywhere and was already in the Hogwarts uniform. He had a book out, but appeared to be staring out of the window rather than actually reading it.

"No, but I can help you find it," the boy offered, closing his book. "What's your name?" he asked, pulling out his wand with a sharp gesture.

"Neville. Neville Longbottom," he said, flinching against the sudden movement.

"Accio Neville's toad," the boy drawled, seemingly unconcerned.

After a second, a toad sped towards the boy, one Neville immediately recognized. "Trevor!" he exclaimed and happily picked up the toad. "Where have you been? I've been worried!"

"Maybe you should put a tracking spell on him," the boy suggested calmly, flicking his wrist and hiding his wand.

"A tracking spell?" Neville asked, blinking.

"No, you're right. You should put a spell on him to return to his cage whenever he's gone for too long. Much easier than going out of your way to find him every time he disappears," the boy mused.

"I don't know that spell," Neville admitted glumly.

"Great! Me neither. Friends?" the boy said, beaming and holding out a hand.

Neville startled, looking between the toad and the boy. He shrugged and grasped the other boy's hand.

"Harrison Potter. Nice to meet you, Neville."

Neville stared at him. Harrison Potter. The Boy Who Lived to Wear Shades. And they're friends now.

Years later, he would regret his naïve awe.

"Wow. Harrison Potter..."

"Call me Harry. Sit down. Let's talk. I was getting bored of reading."

-O-

Hushed whispers filled the fall as Harrison Potter approached the Sorting Hat. He ignored them, tracing the footsteps of his younger self. Had it really been fifty years? Wow, he really was old.

Facing the Great Hall with hundreds of eyes looking at him, he smirked and allowed the Sorting Hat to cover his shades covered eyes.

 _'It's pretty dark in here.'_

The Hat shook as it chuckled. _'You've been here before, Mister Potter.'_

 _'Yeah, well, I got a letter. Who was I to refuse a second chance at my education?'_

 _'I'm sure, Mister Potter,'_ the Hat said drily, _'that this has nothing to do with Mister Riddle.'_

He tried to project puppy dog eyes. _'Who's Mister Riddle?'_

The Hat shook again as it chuckled. _'Very well, Mister Potter, where do you want to go?'_

Hufflepuff, he wouldn't be taken seriously. He hated Ravenclaws. Gryffindor, that's practically asking for the past to play out the same way, only worse. Slytherin, and he would suspect his every move...

 _'Slytherin.'_

 _'Are you sure?'_

'Yes.'

 _'Very well.'_ "SLYTHERIN!"

For a second, the Great Hall was silent. He casually walked toward the Slytherin table, waving at Neville as he passed by, who waved back shakily. He smirked as he set his eyes on Malfoy, who flinched.

 _This is going to be fun,_ Harrison thought gleefully.

-O-

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	3. Chapter 3: First Year

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.**

Chapter 3:

Upon realizing everyone had to share a room, Harrison immediately went to a perfect and asked if there was an alternative.

The perfect snorted. "Kid, just because everyone in this house wants to kill you, it doesn't mean you're going to get your own room."

That wasn't what he meant, but it made sense. Not that he was jut going to take this lying down, no. He spent hours up to craft his own trunk into a nice, live in space. Because he would be damned if he slept in the same room as a bunch of prepubescent boys who didn't know he was a Voldemort-sexual, sixty year old man.

Speaking of Voldemort, what was he going to do with him? He was with another man and he really didn't want to ask him when he was stuck to him. He would have to play this the Slytherin way, by harassing him in his dreams until he finally realized Harrison was a much better host than Quirrell ever will be. Yes, and once he found a nice, yummy body...

The Slytherins all woke up in fear at hearing a loud, evil laugh coming from the common rooms.

-O-

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harrison blinked lazily. He hurried to make Neville his partner and, as a result, they were in the middle of the class. Far away from Hermione who's hand shot up like a thunderbolt.

"It depends, sir, on what you want for instance... such potions I'm thinking about aren't in the school book... hmm... probably Draught of Living Death, sir."

Not deterred, Snape fired off again, "Where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?"

Harrison couldn't resist. "A potions cupboard, sir."

"Potter!"

"You can't expect me to go out and just butcher a goat just for it's bezoar. Not only would I get my hands dirty, Dumbledore wouldn't approve. At all."

Snape sighed, looking... almost proud? "Tell me, Mister Potter, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"Shouldn't you know that?"

Harrison knew he crossed the line when Snape's eyes flash and he looked _this_ close to taking points from his own house.

Harrison sighed. "There isn't one, right Neville?"

He nudged the boy with his elbow, who was quick to agree. "Yes, and it's called aconite."

"Detention, both of you. Tonight. Eight p.m. Don't be late."

It could have gone worse.

-O-

"Malfoy," Harrison said calmly. "We all agree it's a useless item. But it's still Neville's. So hand it over. Now."

Malfoy smirked. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. Like up in a tree."

"Accio, Neville's Remembrall." He caught it safely in his hand. He glared at Malfoy, who took a frightened step back.

"What is going on here?"

You would think Madame Hooch would be smart enough to send another teacher down to check on her students. You would be right.

-O-

"Hermione, while I'm sure it's perfectly reasonable to cry yourself in the bathroom, please come out so I don't look creepy."

There was a choked giggle. Maybe he was making progress.

"And while I know I'm an icky, sticky Slytherin, I would appreciate hitting puberty before I try to sneak into the girl's bathroom."

Full on laughter. He got her.

She left the bathroom not long after, drying her tears. While he mentally treated this version of Hermione like a kiddy, hateful version of the True Hermione, perhaps he could speed her growth along so she would become an evil dictator like she did in the future. Admittedly, he wasn't sure if that was a lie or not, created during drunk ramblings, but he believed it, and so it must be true.

Oh, and he had to make sure Ron survived this time around. Maybe her evil, dictate persona came along because the love of her life died. Then again, she did briefly hook up with Malfoy, no matter how many times she denied it...

"Why do you," she sniffed, "want to talk to me?"

"Because I'm your yearmate, and I don't like seeing my yearmates cry, no matter how much I hate them. Also, I'm a lion at heart, so it's my job to help a lion in need."

She hiccuped and giggled at the same time. How weird.

"Do you want to visit the kitchens? The House Elves can cheer you up..."

After pointing out Dumbledore wasn't a son of a bitch and actually _paid_ his House Elves, Hermione let the notion of freeing the House Elves go, though she expressed interest in learning more about them.

"Harry, I noticed this earlier, but why's your food so different from everyone else?"

Harry smirked. A week after coming back to Hogwarts, Harry had a mini meltdown that resulted in him cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and- ...Well, the House Elves were both fascinated and horrified. Fascinated because of the odd dishes he was cooking up and horrified a student- _an eleven year old_ \- was doing their job. He allowed them to convince him to stop and gave them the recipes to his odd dishes... which were from all over the place, but mainly from fast food restaurants that went out of their way to look different but taste the same.

Turns out recipes might as well be currency to the House Elves, for they worshiped him after that, seeing him as a wealthy patron.

"Because I have cravings and special ordered. Yes, I know I have problems," he added before Hermione could open her mouth.

What? She could figure it out for herself. That reminded him, he wondered how Neville was doing.

-O-

"There was a troll roaming around the school," Neville said glumly the next day.

Harry poured a generous amount of syrup on Neville's pancake and encouraged him to eat. "Did they catch it?"

"Yes. That's what they told us anyway."

"Who caught it?"

"Weasley." If anything, he looked more depressed.

"Oh? Which one?"

Neville took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. "Percy."

Harrison hid his laugh behind a cough and took a bite out of his hamburger.

-O-

After introducing Neville and Hermione to each other, they seemed to get along well. Harry took a moment (in the Great Hall) to laugh evil at getting all three houses to unite in under three months.

"Uh, Harry? I'm a Gryffindor, and we don't have anyone from Hufflepuff in our group," Hermione pointed out.

He ignored her and continued laughing to the Slytherin table.

-O-

Christmas.

Oh, fuck. It was almost Voldemort's birthday.

He scrambled to think of anything to get. A new snake? No, he still hadn't gotten Nagini. Some robes... he wouldn't be able to wear. Jewelry? He wasn't a fucking girl for fuck's sake!

Running a hand through his hair, Harrison sighed, aggravated. What could he...?

 _'The Philosopher's Stone.'_

Fuck, he forgot about that thing.

-O-

"Harry, you creep me out when you smile like that," Neville said bluntly, twirling a fork into his spaghetti.

He smiled wider.

Neville shuddered.

"Why are you happy today, Harry?" Hermione asked, not looking up from her book.

His smile softened and his eyes misted up. Neville looked alarmed. "I got the perfect present for my lover."

Neville choked, Hermione dropped her book. "LOVER?"

Maybe he shouldn't have said that in the Great Hall, where everyone was looking at them.

-O-

It took several Obliviates for Dumbledore to drop the conversation.

-O-

For once, Dumbledore looked his one hundred and ten year as he sunk down into his chair in the teacher's lounge. Every teacher (yes, including Snape) looked at him in concern.

"Albus, does the boy really..." McGonagall said, hesitant to brooch the subject.

"No. Thank the stars above," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "The poor boy's deluded himself into think Voldemort-" Flinches all around everyone. "-is his soulmate and is determined to prove himself a capable lover, which, thankfully, includes cooking and cleaning."

"V-V-Voldemort?" Quirrell asked, looking ready to have a heart attack.

Dumbledore sighed again. He was getting too old for this. "Yes, Quirinus. Voldemort. The man who killed his parents, started a war and caused genocide. Also, Severus, were you aware of Mister Potter living in a trunk? Of course, he hit me with several Obliviates, so I'm not sure I'm suppose to know that..."

"Albus, what shall we do?" McGonagall said, horror in her eyes.

He gave each of them a look.

A look of pure despair. "I have no idea."

-O-

"Soo... what do you guys plan to do for Christmas?"

Neville sighed and thumped his head against the table.

"What about you, Harry?"

"I plan... to... do... um..."

Oh, this is sad.

"Honestly, I was going to track down my lover and give him some love juice, but I don't think Dumbledore will let me leave now..."

"Oh, god."

"Yeah, I know. It's tragic. I won't be able to see him until I'm at least fourteen now..."

"Not that. Harry," she forced him to look her in the eyes, "has your lover... as he ever touched you? Inappropriately, I mean?"

Harry snorted. "Of course..." The look on their faces! "not.

"The last time I saw him... technically, was when I was a baby. He came into my house, in the dead of night. It was Halloween, so it fit the theme." Hermione's eyes widened. "He came and leaned over my crib. I swear, he stared at me for at least twenty minutes before... a green light. The same one that killed them both... I sometimes hear her screaming, pleading for my life."

"Oh, Harry." Hermione hugged Harry and Neville followed her lead.

"They all died that night. Who knows, maybe I did too..."

They pulled away. "Wait, why would you want to-"

"Forgiveness, Neville. I decided to follow Dumbledore's theme after all." He smirked at them. "Anyway, Snape found us a couple hours later, but he had to hightail it out of there when he saw Padfoot. Those two never got along..."

"Padfoot?"

"My godfather, Sirius Black, his nickname."

"Sirius Black, the one who betrayed the Potters?"

Harry snorted. "Uh, no. Sirius' animagus form was a dog, so he was stupidly loyal. So stupidly loyal that he convinced my dad that this was too well known, so they switched the Secret Keeper to Wormtail, that rat. To think, they suspected _Remus_."

Pointedly ignore how his friends weren't understanding a word he was saying, he plowed on. "Oh, well. They're all dead now. To think, they were killed because they didn't trust each other." He coughed, "and they're stupidity," and coughed again.

-O-

"Sirius is in Azkaban and Remus isn't dead!?"

He considered himself a true Slytherin at this point.

-O-

On Christmas morning, Harrison woke up to an empty dorm. "Oh, thank fuck." He took the time to lay an assortment of goodies around their beds, unsigned. They were idiot, future Death Eaters after all.

Let's see, invisibility cloak, check, gift to Voldemort sent, check. Christmas was complete.

He spent the rest of the break brewing potions in the Chamber of Secrets. Blinky was happy to have company with her master's mate.

-O-

"I suppose it's inevitable we have a dramatic confrontation," Harrison drawled from behind Quirrell. Said man whipped around, glaring at him.

"Potter," he hissed. "Show yourself."

Oh, right. Invisibility cloak. He took off the hood and smooth it back over his shoulders. "Happy?"

"No." Quirrell's eyes raked over Harrison's body. He shuddered. "What are you doing down here?"

"I presumed you didn't get my Christmas/birthday present, Tom," Harrison replied, twirling his wand. "Why else would you stay with the man who'll be pushing up daisies soon?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe he doesn't trust you, Potter?" Quirrell spat sarcastically.

Harrison gave him an unimpressed look. "This conversation bores me. Would you like to see what true pain is like, Quirrell?"

He left the burnt remains of his former teacher down there and cradled Voldemort's soul in his head.


	4. Chapter 4: Second Year

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.**

Chapter 4:

Water. Carbon. Ammonia. Lime. Phosphorus. Salt. Saltpeter. Sulfur. Fluorine. Iron. Silicon. And some other shit. Everything needed to make a human body. And since he had the Philosopher's Stone, this should be a piece of cake.

Harrison grinned. He finished collecting everything and already drew the circle needed to complete the ritual. The relatives were downstairs, entertaining some important family or something, so he wouldn't be bothered for a while. That, and they had to eat all the fattening foods Harrison made just for Vernon, but lets not get into that.

"Born of hope and despair,

Killed by those who thrice defied him,

Be reborn as my love and my vice."

He sucked in a breath as he felt his magic being sucked out of him like a vacuum. He tried to control the impulse to struggle and hold his magic dormant, but it was too much. He felt like he was being sucked dry of everything that made him _him_. It was not pleasant.

But to his joy, everything he put in the circle was slowly forming a body. It weaved this way and that, composing the elements to create the body he had in mind. It was _glorious_.

Admittedly, it would have been easier just to use an already dead body, but he preferred it this way.

The body was finished. All that was needed was a _soul_.

A crack. An elf. A House Elf. Foot on the circle made of salt. Disturbing it. Breaking it. A red light and he was on his back, both body and soul gone.

"FUCKING ELF!"

-O-

He had no idea where Voldemort or the body went.

-O-

"Uh, Harry? Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, nothing. Just I fucked up and I may never see him again..."

"He's been like that since this morning," Neville whispered to Hermione, ignoring the boy who was sulking in the corner. "He keeps muttering something about Mordor and not falling off a cliff or something..."

"What should we do?"

Neville shrugged. "This is Luna, by the way. She's a first year."

Said first year waved at Hermione, who hesitantly waved back, never mind they were sitting across from each other.

"Luna, go to Hufflepuff. Ravenclaws are a bunch of nerds anyway," Harrison muttered distractedly. "You are _so_ lucky you have those save points!"

"Harry!" Hermione glared at him, not that he could see it.

"Fine, fine. Everyone but Hermione are a bunch of nerds and aren't worth the air you breath, Luna. Take my word for it, Ravenclaw doesn't deserve you."

"What do you have against Ravenclaw, Harry?" Hermione asked, exasperated.

" _Nerds_ ," Harrison said gravely. "FUCK Tom! Stop missing that jump!"

-O-

He clapped when Luna was sorted into Gryffindor, along with Ginny Weasley.

-O-

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet," Professor Sprout said calmly.

Everyone got a sense of foreboding when Harrison took a sudden interest in the lesson.

-O-

"There, there," Harrison cooed.

All the Slytherins fled at the sight of a baby Mandrake cradled in Potter's arms, crying softly.

-O-

"Excuse me? H- Harrison Potter? Could I- Could I get a picture of you?"

Harrison looked down. A young boy stood before him, clutching a camera. Ignoring the bright red color that overtook his face, he stared at the boy. There was a memory, at the tip of his tongue...

He smiled at the child, mentally shrugged. "Go ahead. Just get my good side, won't you?" he said, winking at the boy. The child beamed at took several pictures of him, Harrison jokily posing like a model.

"Thanks, Harrison! I can't wait to tell my friends about you! Everyone told me how you defeated You Know Who-"

"Oh, I wouldn't believe everything everyone says," Harrison cut in smoothly, smiling charmingly. "Forgive me, but what is your name?"

"Oh! Colin Creevey, at your service!" the young boy declared cheerfully.

"Creevey, Creevey..." Sounded _so_ familiar... Oh, well. "You know Luna and Ginny, right? Keep and eye on them, won't you?" Without another word, he left, mind already back on Voldemort and his adventure in Mordor.

-O-

Harrison yawned in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Around him, pixies caused havoc around the room, two of them even lifting Neville up by his ears and hanging him on the chandelier. It was all in good fun, but it was so _dull_.

"Harry, _do_ something!" Hermione yelled at him, using a book to batter the little things like they were baseballs.

"Like what? Call for a teacher?" Harrison punctuated that with another yawn. "You should give up on that Lockhart fellow, by the way. He's only interested in mice."

"HARRY!"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll be hero." He stood up and took his wand out in a deliberately slow motion. "Aresto Momentum. Depulso. Colloportus." Slow down, aim, return to cage, lock cage in quick succession. "Happy, Hermione?"

"Neville's still on the chandelier."

"Is he swinging yet?"

"Harry!"

Sigh. "Fine, fine."

-O-

" _...rip... tear... kill..."_

Harrison continued to hum.

-O-

"Filch's cat..."

"The Chamber of Secrets..."

"Monster..."

"Hermione, where are these disturbing rumors circulating from?!" Harrison demanded to know one early morning.

She blinked at him. "Oh, right. You weren't at the feast on Halloween."

Filch's cat had been petrified, someone wrote _lies_ all _lies_ on the wall by using blood, and all the cocks were dead. Harrison had a sneaking suspicion on who dunnit.

" **WEASLEY!"**

"Yeah?" Five heads shot up to stare at him.

Oh, great, which one was it?

-O-

When Colin Creevey was petrified, he was calm.

-O-

"Blinky, s-stop trying to kill ssstudentsss. It'sss not very good form."

"But Masssssssster!" the giant, thousand year old snake whined.

"No butsss. My mate doesss not have the right to do thisss."

"Other Masssssster ssssmelled sssssstrange, he did. SSSSSStrange like ssssmoke."

Smoke, huh.

-O-

"Dueling Club? What, are we going to play a card game?" Harrison asked, unimpressed.

"Instead of hiring some beefed up security, they decided to train the students to defend themselves. How wonderful," Neville replied, just as unimpressed.

"Oh, knock it off you two. I'm sure Dumbledore had his reasons," Hermione said, looking miffed.

"Like having Lockhart in the school? Oh, please," Harry scoffed. "Are you over your crush yet?" he asked her curiously.

She blushed. "Y-Yes!"

"Un-huh," both boys said flatly, joining the crowd of kids around a dueling platform.

The only interesting thing was when Snape blasted Lockhart across the room. Other than that though...

"Who's that?" Harrison asked, nodding at the boy currently dying from a snake bite.

"IT'S ON MY FACE! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!"

"Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hufflepuff. Our year," Neville informed.

"Hmm..."

-O-

"Oh, I am an idiot," Harrison whispered to himself, in his trunk. "Open! Accio, Lover's Diary!" he called out.

While waiting, he cradled the Mandrake in his arms and cooed to it. He decided to call it Wilbur. It was a good lad, preferring to sleep than anything else. It also made a nice, loud scream whenever someone wanted to open his trunk.

The diary flew into the opening and shrunk on it's way down. He willed the trunk to close and set Wilbur down in it's pot. He stared at the diary for several long minutes before picking it up.

It was deceptively innocent, with only the words T. M. Riddle inscribed on the back. It was blank as well, no surprise. It's pages were soft to the touch... And it definitely had some of Voldemort's soul inside of it.

 _Why didn't Voldemort's soul merge with the rest of the pieces?_ he wondered. _Did I screw up that badly? Or is there something else going on here?_

-O-

Harrison was just as ignorant as everyone else to where Lockhart disappeared to. He suspected Hermione, just on principle. The other theory he wasn't allowed to share with children.

"It was the mice. He could resist no more," Harrison solemnly said, his head bowed and his hands clasped.

"Shut up, Harry!"


	5. Chapter 5: Third Year

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.**

Chapter 5:

"Hermione, my beautiful minion," Harrison said, the first thing he said to any of his friends. "Read these for me and tell me what you think."

"What is it?" she asked, leafing through the hundreds of pages document he set out before her. "Defense Club, Cooking Club and a _Spider-Man_ Club?"

"He be getting _mad_ game," Harrison said with a smirk.

-O-

"So what did you do over the summer, Harry?" Neville asked half way through the train ride.

Harrison's eyes glazed over as he remembered Vernon's sister visiting, and the subsequent blowing up of said sister (something about his macaroni not being _good_ enough?). And spending the rest of the time in his room, loving his brand new ring.

"Oh, nothing much," he replied airily.

-O-

Harrison did not recall who Professor Corner was. He supposed Remus was too busy with Sirius' trial to be teaching... or maybe, just _maybe_ they were... Well, he did detect a bit of UST the first time around, so it was good they were catching up on lost time.

-O-

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Harrison grinned at the time-turner given to him by Professor Snape, who was glaring.

"You will not abused this privilege given to you, Mister Potter, are we clear on this," Snape hissed dangerously.

"Of course, Professor." Harrison smiled at him, eyes crinkling.

-O-

"Why did you two sign up for so many subjects?" Neville asked incredulously, looking at their schedules.

Harrison shrugged. "Thought it'd be interesting. Besides, this gives Hermione the chance to finally beat me at a subject." He ribbed her affectionately, who squirmed away from him.

"You never study yet you effortlessly beat her in everything." Neville shook his head at them. "Wait, your schedules. You'd have to be in two places at the same time!"

"We'll get it fixed, right Harry?" Hermione said upon realizing Harry wasn't going to deny anything.

He took a bite out of his spicy drumstick.

-O-

"The grim!" the crazy woman that was the Divination Professor yelled at Harrison. "You are in grave danger Mister Potter!"

The class gasped.

Upon not getting a reaction, she leaned down, getting a little too close to his face. "Mister Potter?"

"Harry?"

Hermione slowly moved to touch Harrison's shoulder, mindful of last time anyone tried to wake him up. He flinched and rolled out of his seat when she touched him, drawing his wand and pointing it at her.

"Hermione?" he asked sleepily. "Forgive me, I was simply enjoying the nice fumes. I imagine this is what it'll be like before he kicks his smoking habit."

"...Professor Trelawney, are their any addictive chemicals in your 'scents' as you call them?"

-O-

Harrison was sorely disappointed when one of the distinctive scents was gone the next class.

-O-

"Malfoy, don't be an idiot and insult a hippogriff. They're very noble and temperamental creatures. What a beauty, you are," Harrison cooed, stroking his own hippogriff. "And please, don't try to get Hagrid fired. It's not very good form nor is it beneficial."

"Shut up, Potter," Malfoy snapped.

When he inevitably insulted his hippogriff, Harrison just banished him to the castle before he could get injured.

He absolutely refused to have another boring class. He already got enough sleep _and_ homework time in History.

-O-

Hermione gave him his documents back, covered in red ink. Before the day was out, he gave her a brand new version of his documents.

-O-

He submitted the Cooking Club idea to Snape, the Defense Club to Dumbledore, and the Spider-Man one to Madame Pince. The hardest one to convince had been Pince.

-O-

"Why is it," Hermione asked at dinner, "that you have as many books as I do, yet you don't seem to be struggling?"

"That's easy, Hermione," he replied flatly, "Feather-light charm, along with a shrinking charm."

Harrison was proud to have taught her those curses.

-O-

"Today, we'll be reviewing boggarts."

"Welp, I'm out of here," Harrison announced and got up. Hermione pulled him back down by his sleeve.

His classmates' fears were so boring. Sparkly vampires, spiders, Harry, Dark Lord of All...

"Neville, I had no idea you thought so highly of me!" Harrison said, grinning.

"Mate, you are _scary_ on a bad day," Neville muttered.

That only made Harrison's smile wider.

"Your turn, Harry," Hermione said, getting out of the way.

While he was curious, he still didn't want to fight a boggart. He was a seventy-two year old man now, and undoubtedly, his fears had changed. What if it was people finding out his greatest secrets? What if it was those horrible cauldron cakes Hermione tried to serve that one Christmas? What if it was something else entirely, something he didn't even know he was afraid of? What if-

It was still a fucking dementor.

-O-

"I can't believe you just attacked it like that!" Neville said in awe.

"I can't believe how _stupid_ you acted," Hermione said a second later.

"Would you two relax, it's just a boggart, nothing serious," Harrison drawled lazily.

"Nothing serious!" Hermione said shrilly. "It was a fucking boggart! It could have killed you!"

"Oh, Hermione, your concern touches me, it really does," Harrison replied sweetly, "but you must remember _I_ have survived _far_ worse."

The dark look in his eye assured them he was telling the truth, but they still worried for him.

After all, what are friends for?

"But still, you tried to take a _dementor_ head on," Neville mumbled.

-O-

"Hogsmeade Weekend?" Harrison repeated blankly.

Neville nodded enthusiastically. "I heard that they have some of the best sweets you can ever find there."

"Well, they've obviously never met me," Harrison drawled, tossing a baggie at him. Neville accepted it with a grin. From past experience, it was a hit or miss with Harry, but he didn't mind being his guinea pig. After all, when he cooked good, he cooked _good_.

"Are you going to go?"

"Nope," Harrison said, popping the 'p'.

"What? Why not?" Neville asked, startled.

"Forgot to sign the form," he replied, shrugging. "You two have fun now! Don't go catching rabies on your way out now!" He skipped off, saying, "Here, Blinky, Blinky, Blinky. Here, Blinky..."

"Do you think he's mad?" Neville asked Hermione, who hadn't looked up once during the whole exchange.

"Hmm?"

"Harry. Do you think he's mad?" Neville repeated.

"Why would he be mad?"

-O-

"What do you mean you forgot to sign you form?!" Hermione asked when they finally found Harrison again.

"I had other things going on last summer, okay?" Harrison said, not looking up from his homework. Arithmancy was _hard_.

"You said you didn't do anything!"

"I said, 'Nothing _much_ '. That's not the same as nothing."

"Then what were you doing?"

"A boy thing. Drop it, Hermione!"

-O-

"Welcome to the Defense Club. Here, we will learn the benefits of learning how to defend yourself... Duh. Ladies, I appreciate you being here, but could you convince some more to join? I have an idea for protection charms that can only be used by women, and I'm sure it'll help out in every day life-"

"Why should we listen to you? You're only a third year-"

"If you don't want to listen to me, get out. Professor Dumbledore," he jerked a thumb behind him, pointing at the ever twinkling Dumbledore, "is just here to observe, so if you wanted to learn his... 'great' powers, you're going to have to talk with him. And leave. Now."

Only two left. Great.

"Moving on, since this is the first year of the Defense Club, I would like to start out with some basic charms and hexes. As soon as you master whatever spell you've been working on, it'll be posted on the board and you'll earn an achievement. You'll earn your first achievement today, with the spell Silencio. Repeat after me-"

"Silencio?! Doesn't that just make things quiet?"

Harrison gave the speaker a dry look. "Imagine your fighting another wizard. Imagine thinking 'Geeze, I wish they'd shut up' as they begin taunting you. Imagine you cast Silencio and realizing the idiot didn't bother to practice wordless spells. Imagine winning the fight in a minute just because your opponent can't speak. Do you understand the importance now?"

"Yes," the student said meekly.

" _Good_. And if anyone wants to interrupt again, please raise your hands. Where was I?"

"You were going to make us repeat after you," Ginny Weasley piped up.

"Ah, yes. Five points to Gryffindor. Repeat after me: Silencio!"

"Silencio!"

"Good. After you learn how to use it verbally, you'll move on to nonverbal. Now, go practice on those dance cactuar. Looks like Dumbledore wants to have a word..."

"You realize you can't actually reward points, my dear boy?" Dumbledore asked, smiling.

"Oh, drats."

-O-

"Welcome to the Cooking Club, where everything's dark and majestic. Here, we'll pick up our knives, stir glory, rise to the challenge that is cooking. We'll master this craft until there is no more and make our own meals. We shall provide some of the best and the worse cooking that Hogwarts has ever seen!"

He started them on jello.

-O-

"With great power, come great responsibility... and insanity. Welcome to the Spider-Man Club, where everything is fantastic and quiet. No, we will not be able to eat any snacks in here. However, we are willing to teach you the spider webby spell that can sneak food in."

"Mister Potter!"

-O-

That was a fun year. Nobody died, though the DADA teacher suffered a horrible accident and was disfigured. Besides that, everything was good. Harrison learned a lot of new recipes to try out on his family, Hermione didn't piss him off as much, and Neville passed Potions.

The only thing he hadn't accomplished this year was rescuing Voldemort from Mordor.

-O-

 **Yay! I got reviews! So happy! Please review some more and tell me what you think so far!**

 **Toodles! -Tempo**


	6. Chapter 6: Fourth Year, Part 1

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.** **Or Counting Stars.**

Chapter 6:

He didn't know how long he had stood in that same spot. It could have been hours, it could have been minutes. He only knew one thing for certain.

He was losing his patience.

"In other words," he cut in smoothly, "if we get rid of this war problem for you, you'll listen to our request?"

The king snorted. "You can't just get rid of a war. You have to sign treaties, negotiate-"

"Kiara, Snail, take care of the villagers. And you," he nodded to the king, "make sure you order your soldiers back before I get there."

"What are you going to do?" one of his minions asked.

He smiled. It wasn't a pleasant smile. "You'll see."

Harrison woke up with a gasp.

-O-

Mordor was a confusing place. They seemed to be constantly at war with each other, which gave Voldemort something to do while he figured out how to get him back, but seriously. _All the time._ And they had monsters that terrorized the villages on a daily basis.

It was a geeks' fantasy world.

Of course, that's assuming they had training from hell which would be useful for surviving in said world. And immunities from the diseases that plagued Mordor. Poor Voldemort was sick for a whole month after arriving. Harrison had to pump some magic inside Voldemort so he would live on some particularly bad days.

And the language, oh fuck, the _language_. Voldemort nor Harrison could understand a word they were speaking without the letter opener (really a small knife, but it might as well be a letter opener) on hand. Both of them were interested in examining the magicks behind the letter opener, but with Voldemort crippled and Harrison not understanding a damn thing since he never studied that sort of stuff, it was impossible. No, wait. _Improbable_ , yeah, that's the word.

Harrison briefly wondered if something was wrong with him for counting on something improbable to happen.

Nah.

-O-

Sometimes, Harrison admired his aunt. She spawned with a man like Vernon, dealt with her spoiled pig of a son, and did not bend to Harrison's numerous death glares. See, Dudley had gotten too big. Big enough to warrant a visit from the nurse from whatever school Dudley went to. No matter Vernon's bad mood, Dudley's tantrums and Harrison's sulky silence and refusal to cook, she refused to back down and continued to make ghastly, healthy meals that consisted of too much grapefruit and too little meat.

So yes, he admired her.

It didn't mean he had to _like_ her.

"I don't like grapefruit."

-O-

"Harry! Where have you been all summer?" Hermione demanded to know upon finding him.

"Hello to you too, Hermione. I had a great summer, thanks," Harrison grumbled, waking up and shifting in his seat. He'd gotten up extra early and boarded the train before anyone had arrived. Just to miss the crowds and the crying parents.

 _"Harry..."_

"I was with the relatives, like I am _every_ summer. Why do you ask?"

"You weren't responding to our letters and there was an _attack_."

"An attack from the Flying Spaghetti Monster? I knew the day would come!"

"NO! From _Death Eaters_ , Harry!"

Harrison perked up. "Death Eaters? Why didn't you say so earlier, Hermione? Where was it and how did it go?"

She shoved a newspaper into his hands. "Read this while I go find Neville. And _don't_ go anywhere."

"She treats me like I'm a little kid," he grumbled, flipping open the paper. Quidditch World Cup, Dark Mark, blah, blah, blah... stuff he refused to take seriously... who wrote this crap? Ah, Rita Skeeter, world renown journalist who prints lies and trash in order to tarnish everyone's name... Need to get rid of her later just in case she finds something... unpleasant.

"Good morning, Harry!" Neville greeted, sliding open the compartment door.

"Good morning, Neville," Harrison responded, positively grinning. "How was your summer?"

"Great! Nobody tried to kill me this year!" Neville replied cheerfully.

-O-

"This is going to be fun," Harrison said with a grin after Dumbledore was finished announcing the Triwizard Tournament.

"Harry, you are not going to enter," Hermione replied.

"Why, Hermione! Who said anything about entering? I just said it was going to be fun!" Harrison said with a shit eating grin. "Back me up here, Neville!"

"Sorry, Harry, but I'm going to go with Hermione here. Remember that one time you blew up the potions classroom because you were bored?"

"That was the one time! Besides, it wasn't like Snape minded not having to teach for a week."

"Mate, he relocated to another classroom. You just never showed up."

"Details," he said, waving a hand dismissively.

-O-

"Moody," Harrison said. "Moody, Moody, Moody..."

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"I'm trying to remember him. Moody, I mean. For some reason, the only thing that comes up is 'Crazy Awesome' and "Scary, scary eyeball that pops out'," Harrison responded.

"Well, his nickname is 'Mad-Eye' for a reason," Hermione said drily. "You probably read about him in a newspaper or something. Come on, our next class is starting."

-O-

"So... do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

In the back of the classroom, Harrison yawned loudly. Hermione smacked his side without looking at him while Neville's eyes were glued to the surface of their desk. It was Moody's first lesson, and so far, the only thing Harrison wanted to do was nap.

Imperius. Cruciatus. _Killing_. These are the curses that were frequently used by Death Eaters. Harrison wondered if there were any addictive qualities, ignoring their practicality in war times. Hey, dark wizards weren't the only ones to use them during the battle... Though sometimes, he wished they _were_ the only ones.

-O-

"Neville, Harry, are you guys okay?" Hermione asked, snapping Harrison out of his daze.

"Hmm? What's there not to be fine about? We only saw the way our parents were tortured/killed. Why wouldn't we be fine?" Harrison said with a sardonic grin. "Also, our teacher is going to die. And soon, probably."

"Harry! Why would you-"

"He's already showing the signs."

"What signs?"

"Signs he's going to die."

"To be fair, every teacher we've had so far as disappeared/died. Remember last year?" Neville said.

"Professor Corner didn't die! He was just-"

"Brutally disfigured until he practically died after he tried to kill Harry? Yeah, I think we all remember that," Neville said flatly.

"Corner tried to kill me?" Harrison asked, surprised.

"Yeah, you weren't paying much attention. See, what happened was-"

"Longbottom, Potter," Moody said gruffly, walking up to them. "Why don't you come up to my office? I've got some books that might suit your fancy..."

"Can Hermione come too?" Harry asked, ignoring Neville's pleading look. "I reckon she'll be interested in what you have to say..."

They went into Moody's office, which was chock full of stuff. Most of them warding against concealment and detection spells. It was a bit like Dumbledore's office... just leaning toward a more paranoia personality than an eccentric one.

But Harrison wasn't too concerned about the artifacts scattered about. No, his eyes were focus on a trunk, shoved off into a corner. It was a rather inconspicuous thing, no elaborate markings or great magical power. No, it was just a trunk, yet...

All the doors locked as did the windows. The candle snuffed out and all that was left was darkness. Harrison's eyes fixed on 'Moody' like a snake to it's prey. He was Not Happy.

"Neville, step away from the professor," he said, walking slowly up to the imposter, who still had his back turned. He took off his shades and set them on a desk. What to do, what to do?

"Harry?" Hermione asked, sounding frightened.

"You too, Hermione," Harrison said flatly, eyes still fixed on Moody, who had cautiously turned around. Harrison slammed his magic at the man, if he was one, so he was hanging by his feet, grinding into the wall. "Who are you and what's your business here?"

"Alastor Moody," the imposter grunted, his windpipe being squeezed by Harrison's magic.

"Oh, you're going to have to try harder than that," Harrison said with a mocking grin.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Neville asked, backing up.

"Quiet, Neville. Let me do the talking," Harrison purred, loosening up a bit. "What did you use? Glamour? Potion? Polyjuice Potion?"

His eyes flicked to a cabinet behind Harrison. Without a thought, he used his magic to open it and send one of the bottles to him. He uncorked the lid and took a sniff. "Hmm, Polyjuice. Great work, by the way. I know how hard it is to buy ingredients in disguise." He snapped the lid close and threw it aside. "Now, lets see if we can reverse that..."

Slowly, the imposter's features melted off. Harrison helped the eyeball out and took off the fake leg. Hermione and Neville were paralyzed behind him, not offering a word or a movement. Honestly, it was like they'd never interrogated-

Ah, right.

When the imposter was done cooking, Harrison stared at the man.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Bartemius Crouch," the man smiled ghoulishly at him, "Junior."

"Ah." He turned to Hermione. "I still have no idea who this is."

"Don't look at me, I don't know," Hermione said, holding her hands up in a stop gesture. "I can probably... is he a Death Eater?"

He pulled his sleeve up. "Yep. Were you high in the ranks?" he asked, his eyes flick up again.

"Yes, I was a favorite," the man said proudly.

"Hmm... What do you know of your master's... habits?"

"Harry, really?"

"What? I just- Neville, are you okay?"

Neville was pale as a horse. Shit, uh, pale like a ghost. Never mind they're translucent. He was staring at the Doctor like he was one of the most monstrous things he had ever seen.

"He's one of the people who tortured my parents to death," he whispered.

Ah. "Do you want revenge, Neville, or would you rather forgive this man?" Harrison asked softly.

"I wouldn't blame you if you did," Junior said quietly, wincing when Harrison's magic squeezed his throat tighter.

"I- I..." He took a deep breath. "Can we just-"

"Sorry, Neville. He either dies here or lives with Moody. No other choice, see?" Harrison said, knowing how Neville would finish that sentence. "After all, we can't have a murderer running around the school without supervision, now can we?"

Harrison waited a long time, waiting for Neville to decide. Revenge is easy. Forgiveness is hard. He could understand completely if Neville choose to kill Junior. However, to spare the one who drove your parents insane... now _that_ takes courage.

"Let him go," Neville finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Let him down, Harrison."

As he lowered the man, the trunk clicked open. Harrison sat on the edge of the trunk and looked down at the poor ex-auror that sat at the bottom of the trunk. "Now isn't this a sad sight? The great Alastor Moody, taken down by his own paranoia..."

"Harry, just get him out of there," Hermione snapped.

-O-

"Why couldn't we just turn him in?" Neville asked, hours later.

"Because of Voldemort," Harrison replied flatly. "He also may be planning something, like resurrecting his master. I'm going to keep an eye on him if he does."

"I thought you were in love with him," Hermione pointed out.

"Oh, I am," he casually admitted. "But I already tried to resurrect him, and if I can't do it, _no one_ can."

They weren't sure how to respond to that.

-O-

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing," Harrison hissed at Moody the next Defense class. "And it's not going to work," he continued proudly.

"Potter, what are you muttering about?" Malfoy asked, giving him a disdainful look.

"The new professor's trying to kill me," he said darkly.

Malfoy snorted. "So's the rest of Slytherin and I don't see you complaining."

"Slytherins are trying to kill me? Since when?" Harrison said, shocked.

"Since _first year,_ Potter. Get with the program." With one last look of disdain, Malfoy turned away, concentrated on the lesson.

"Who else has been gunning for me?" Harrison cried.

"At least half the school, mate. Especially after the Socks Incident."

The whole class shuddered. Harrison vaguely remembered doing something in second year that had something to do with socks, but he couldn't remember anything _dangerous_ about the socks.

Before he could ask, it was his turn to be Imperioed. He moved to the middle of the classroom and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And- "For fuck's sake, man, are you going to Imperio me or not?"

Moody frowned and cast the spell. Nothing happened.

"Wow. Having performance issues, Moody?" Harrison asked, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.

Moody grunted and tried again.

"The first sign of insanity is trying the same thing again and again while expecting different results," Harrison said in sing song.

Moody scowled. "Well, will you look at that. Potter's the first to completely resist. Tell me, Potter, is this the first time you've been under this curse?"

"Um... yes? Maybe? I'm not quite sure to be honest. It would be interesting if it wasn't," Harrison mused.

"Yes," Moody said softly, "it would, wouldn't it?"

-O-

Harrison frowned at his hedgehog.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"What if these were people?"

"Oh, no, not another insane theory," Malfoy muttered from the back.

"What if Professor McGonagell was a Dark Witch back in the day, and had a crush on Voldemort?" There was some choking in the back. "What if she lets out her pent up aggression out on these poor people, by trapping them in animagus form or something. It would be an interesting torture, trapping people like this and transfiguring them into pincushions-"

"As interesting as your theories are, Mister Potter," Professor McGonagell said from behind them, "I can assure you they're all false. Now transfigure your hedgehog into a pincushion."

Harrison pouted. "Yes, ma'am."

It didn't stop him from writing fanfiction about her.

-O-

Harrison had better things to do than greet the weirdoes from other countries. He was in the kitchen when the foreigners arrived.

"What are these, Master Harry?" one of the house elves asked, pointing at a plate.

"Potato skins on a stick. Take a bite. I assure you they taste simply excellent by themselves. Then dip them into the sauce," Harrison said, grunting as he drained the water.

"Master Potter, are we's going to serve these to the scary foreigners?" another elf piped up.

Harrison shrugged. "Go ahead. I have no preference," he replied blandly, taking up a knife and cutting some vegetables.

He's just failed to rescue Voldemort yet again. He thought he had done everything right. _Yet_ everything ended in failure. He didn't understand what he was doing wrong. Was he not studying it enough? Was some omniscient presence interfering with his goal? _What was he doing wrong?_

He stabbed the cutting board he was working with and sat down, breathing heavily. _There's no use in getting angry,_ he thought to himself, anger still shimmering, just below the surface. _I just need to calm down and_ think _. What normally works with these kinds of stories?_

"Master Potter," one of the house elves said, tugging at his trousers, "we's thinks you should join the feast and eats some food, we's do."

Harrison opened his mouth, only to close it with a sigh. "To battle, then."

-O-

"It's worst than I thought," Harrison said gravely upon reaching the Great Hall. "Draco," he purred, "why don't you introduce me?"

Malfoy looked like he swallowed a lemon whole. "Krum, this is Harrison Potter, defeater of the Dark Lord and... fellow Slytherin. Potter, this is Viktor Krum. He's from Durmstrang. Don't try to corrupt him."

Harrison smirked and shook the boy's hand. "Nice to meet you, Viktor." He stared at Malfoy. "Aren't you going to introduce me to everyone else?"

The look on his face!

-O-

"Da da de da doom da doom da," Harrison sang softly as he made his way to the Great Hall in the middle of the night. "Who should I put in the cup? Ah, fuck it. Everyone is going in!"

-O-

The next day, a note was found sticking to the cup.

It read, "Tom, please throw parchment into fire. Love, Harry."

Of course, the son of a bitch only put in every name except Harrison's. See what happened was that Harrison learned that they could switch bodies... for ten minutes and no more. It severally irritated them both for different reasons.

Thankfully, Dumbledore didn't count on someone simply _throwing_ their parchment into the cup.

-O-

Every year, Harrison set aside some time to give his parents' graves some flowers. He made a little shrine for them in the Chamber of Secrets and gave it some flowers instead.

Which was why he completely missed the announcement of the champions.

-O-

"Where were you yesterday, Harry?" Neville asked, squirming nervously under the school's scrutiny.

"Oh, I was around," Harrison said, squeezing the hell out of a bottle.

"You weren't hiding underneath your invisibility cloak again, were you?" Hermione asked, glaring at him. She didn't appreciate his playful moods.

"No, no. Not this time," Harrison said with a shit eating grin.

"But seriously, where were you?" Hermione asked.

"It was Halloween yesterday," he offered as an explanation, taking a bit out of his sausage. Several people made faces at him. He stuck his tongue out at them.

" **POTTER!"**

"Oh, shit!" Harrison yelled, not shrieked, dropping his food and ducking under the table. "I'm not here," he whispered to Hermione.

"Too late. And get out from under there. You look like a pervert."

"Where were you yesterday, Potter?" Snape growled at him after he slinked out from under the table.

"I'm sorry, I wanted to respect the people who died for me yesterday, so I was a bit busy," Harrison bit out sarcastically, hitting Snape with a proverbial jab. "What happened that requires my _majestic_ presence?"

Snape sneered. "Your name came out of the goblet."

Harrison's mouth opened and closed. "The flammable one?"

"The _Goblet of Fire_ , Potter."

"I'm the Hogwarts Champion?" he asked. At Snape's reluctant nodded, Harrison jumped up. "I'M THE HOGWARTS CHAMPION!"

"Come with me to the Headmaster's office," Snape growled, his eyes darkening. _"Now."_

"Oh, _fuck_. I'm the Hogwarts Champion."

-O-

After being scolded... sorta, he was given instructions and the due date. He was also advised to not let Voldemort have control over his body to do mundane things. Harrison was quick to point out that if he couldn't let Voldemort do mundane things, what should he make him do? He was given detention for that.

The strange thing was that, unlike last time, he wasn't treated any different from before. He briefly speculated that it was because he was the leader of some clubs, so he was very personal with the school... until he realized it was because they were so used to his craziness that it didn't affect them anymore.

"I... I have never been so disappointed in myself," Harrison moaned as he sunk into his seat.

-O-

"Do I have to?" Harrison asked, ignoring the reporter lady, staring at Bagman.

"Er, why don't you give it a shot?" Bagman said, scratching the back of his head.

Harrison nodded and entered the broom cupboard with one Rita Skeeter.

A couple minutes later, Harrison stormed out, covered in, from head to toe, ink.

"Her bloody pen exploded!"

-O-

"Harry, why are you covered in ink in this picture?" Neville asked the next morning.

Harrison jabbed his food so violently, his fork when through both the plate and the table. Everyone was careful not to mention it from then on.

-O-

"Dragons?" Neville squeaked, dropping his quill.

"Yeah. It's going to be great," Harrison said, enthused.

"Dragons?" he repeated dumbly.

"Yes, Neville, it's been established it's going to be dragons. Keep up with the plot, man," Harrison said, mildly irritated.

"We need to get Hermione," Neville announced, getting up on shaky legs.

"No, we don't," he replied, pulling the kid back down by his robes. "I have the perfect plan to sooth the raging beast."

"What are you going to do?" Neville asked warily.

He smirked. "You'll see."

-O-

"And here come Potter! I wonder what he's going to do...?"

With a small sigh, Harrison walked out of the tent and stared up at the dragon. Wow, it seemed bigger than last time.

He raised his wand and cast a simple spell, one that produces music. Then he cast another spell, one that would summon his invisibility cloak.

 _Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep  
Dreaming about the things that we could be  
But, baby I've been, I've been praying hard  
Said no more counting dollars, we'll be counting stars  
Yeah, we'll be counting stars  
_

Cloak in hand, he was _ready_.

"What is that?" a student asked.

"I've never heard of it before," another student said.

 _Because it hasn't been made yet_ , Harrison thought, _at least, I don't think it's been made yet..._

 _I see this life like a swinging vine,  
Swing my heart across the line  
In my face is flashing signs,  
Seek it out and ye shall find_

 _Old but I'm not that old_  
 _Young but I'm not that bold_  
 _And I don't think the world is sold_  
 _I'm just doing what we're told_

 _And I feel something so right by doing the wrong thing_  
 _And I feel something so wrong by doing the right thing_

 _I could lie, couldn't I, couldn't I?_  
 _Everything that kills me makes me feel alive_

The dragon was listening, bobbing her head to the music. Harrison only hoped she was distracted enough not to notice him sneaking into her nest.

 _Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep  
Dreaming about the things that we could be  
But, baby I've been, I've been praying hard  
Said no more counting dollars, we'll be counting stars  
Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep  
Dreaming about the things that we could be  
But, baby I've been, I've been praying hard  
Said no more counting dollars, we'll be-we'll be counting stars_

 _Baby..._

Almost there. Just a little bit _more_.

 _I feel her love  
And I feel it burn down this river every time  
Hope is our four-letter word, make that money watch it burn_

 _Old but, I'm not that old_  
 _Young, but I'm not that bold_  
 _And I don't think the world is sold_  
 _I'm just doing what we're told_

 _And I feel something so wrong by doing the right thing_  
 _I could lie, couldn't I, couldn't I?_  
 _Everything that drowns me makes me wanna fly_

Got it. Now all he needed to do was get back to the tent and-

Shit. The dragon was looking around suspiciously.

 _Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep  
Dreaming about the things that we could be  
But, baby I've been, I've been praying hard  
Said no more counting dollars, we'll be counting stars  
Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep  
Dreaming about the things that we could be  
But, baby I've been, I've been praying hard  
Said no more counting dollars, we'll be-we'll be counting stars_

 _Oh, take that money watch it burn,_  
 _Sing in the river the lessons I learned_  
 _Take that money watch it burn,_  
 _Sing in the river the lessons I learned_  
 _Take that money watch it burn,_  
 _Sing in the river the lessons I learned_  
 _Take that money watch it burn,_  
 _Sing in the river the lessons I learned_

 _Everything that kills me makes me feel alive_

Walking stealthily pass the dragon and trying not to disturb the dirt was harder than it sounded. He did it, but not without accidentally stepping on a branch. He froze as the dragon's head snapped toward him.

 _Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep  
Dreaming about the things that we could be  
But, baby I've been, I've been praying hard  
Said no more counting dollars, we'll be counting stars  
Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep  
Dreaming about the things that we could be  
But, baby I've been, I've been praying hard  
Said no more counting dollars, we'll be-we'll be counting stars_

 _Take that money watch it burn,_  
 _Sing in the river the lessons I learned_  
 _Take that money watch it burn,_  
 _Sing in the river the lessons I learned_  
 _Take that money watch it burn,_  
 _Sing in the river the lessons I learned_  
 _Take that money watch it burn,_  
 _Sing in the river the lessons I learned_

Fuck it.

He shot a white string out and hit the dragon on the nose. She shrieked and fell back in surprise. He took advantage of that and high tailed it out of there. He could feel the heat of her flames at his feet and ran even faster.

He got a decent score.

-O-

"Harry, what was that song?" Hermione asked.

"Don't remember. I don't usually bother to learn the names of songs I hear on the radio," he drawled, clutching his egg close.

-O-

Wilbur and the egg had a strange singing contest for the next several days. He tried to teach them "Mary Had a Little Knife" but that only resulted in both of them screaming at him.

-O-

"The Yule Ball is approaching-"

" _Fuck."_

"Ten points from Slytherin. The Yule Ball is approaching and a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament it is an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guest. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above- although you may invite a younger student if you wish- Yes, Mister Potter?"

"Can we invite someone older? And not a student?"

Professor McGonagell gave him a very stern look, when something seemed to occur to her. "Mister Potter, how did you get in here, and why aren't you with Professor Snape?"

"I'll just be going now," Harrison said sheepishly.

-O-

"Please, Great Rabbit God/Goddess that controls this side of the Universe, please let Voldemort go to the ball with me. _Please_ ," Harrison prayed in the middle of the Forbidden Forest.

The Rabbit Masked Person was not pleased by the lacking of an offering, but the boy was amusing...

-O-

"Mister Potter is late," Snape grumbled to Dumbledore.

The headmaster sighed. "I recall him mentioning that in his letter yesterday. I suppose we could start without him."

"A letter?" Snape asked, suspicious.

The headmaster nodded. "It was more like a list of demands, if I can recall correctly." His brows furrowed. "Strangely, I can't remember exactly what the demands were..."

"He probably cast an Obliviate on the letter," McGonagell said, resignedly. "Lord knows he's done worse."

Half way through the meal, the music cut and the door opened with dramatic flourish. Everyone's head turned to see who had entered.

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "Oh, no."

"Introducing Harrison Potter and L-Lord V-V-Voldemort."

Harrison had finally done it.

And he was clinging to the irritated Voldemort's arm like a teenage girl on her first date.

-O-

 **I appreciate any feedback!**


	7. Chapter 7: Fourth Year, Part 2

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. Do not own the riddles.  
**

 **To the readers: Thanks for the favorites, follows and reviews! I really appreciate it!**

Chapter 7:

It was times like this Dumbledore debated with himself whether or not he should have placed Harrison with the Dursleys. Perhaps he should have kept a closer eye on the boy growing up. Maybe he could have discouraged this obsession he had with the Dark Lord. Regardless, the man was standing before him now, face blank (but clearly irritated) and with his arm trapped between young Harrison's, his other hand in a death grip with his cane.

Hecate help them all.

Beside Tom's arrival, what shocked him to the core was how the man was _dressed_. After entering the wizarding world, young Tom wouldn't be caught dead in a suit. Now, he was wearing a deep, dark purple suit with a gold tie. It was... off putting to say the least.

Perhaps that was the _point_ , Dumbledore realized with a start.

They sat, ignoring the stony silence and stares around them. Tom apparently found the menu lacking for, after a quick read, set it down and turned to Harrison.

"So... how's your life been since I murdered your parents?"

 _I see your social skills are as good as they were in your school day_ _s_ _, Tom,_ Dumbledore thought, resisting the urge to bang his head into the table. It would not do good for the esteemed headmaster to indulge in such small things. Thankfully, Miss Granger had no such qualms.

"Great! Wonderful even. I especially like the kitchens." With a whispered 'Riddle', food appeared on both their plates, Harrison smiling mischievously. "Maybe I could try out some of these recipes on you, Voldemort."

Oh, Hecate, he was flirting.

"Hmm... No," Tom said flatly, poking his food with a fork.

With a pout, Harrison turned toward Miss Granger. While he was talking to her, Tom pulled out a flask from the labels of his suit and poured amber liquid into his goblet. Dumbledore's mustache quivered a little as Tom put the flask away, before young Harrison could see it.

"Voldemort, this is Hermione. Hermione, this is Voldemort. Play nice, you two."

"Um, nice to meet you, Mister Voldemort," Hermione said nervously, extending a hand.

"Same," Tom replied, completely ignoring the hand in favor of drinking.

 _He always did have a disdain for touching people,_ Dumbledore thought nostalgically.

"Tom," Harrison said, quirking his head.

With a sigh, Tom shook her hand, quickly letting go as if burnt. Harrison smiled, pleased.

When they'd finished (half-finished, in Tom's case), Dumbledore asked them to get up so he could rearrange the interior. He lined the tables along the walls so everyone had enough room to dance. Maybe. Strangely, students seemed to take up a lot of space no matter how much he provided.

Tom was dragged onto the dance floor by Harrison. To Dumbledore's amusement, they kept switching who was the girl throughout the song, resulting in Tom simply _dropping_ Harrison once the song was over. He quickly walked off the floor and tried to hide behind some bushes, easily creating obstacles for Harrison to dodge while he chased Tom. Dumbledore appreciated the irony.

Though he was worried once he noticed the splatters of blood on the dance floor, originating from Tom's leg.

-O-

Harrison returned, hours later, smiling widely. Miss Granger and Mister Longbottom quickly approached him before anyone else could.

"How did it go, Harry?" Miss Granger asked, her face blank.

"Better than I expected, to be honest," Harrison said with a nod. "I suppose the bribery was good enough. But enough about me. _Hermione_..."

"What?" Miss Granger said defensively.

" _Krum_? Really? And here I thought you would go with Draco or, better yet, _Ron_."

"Ron? Are you daft? I've barely spoken five words to him, Harry!"

"I suppose that's my fault," Harrison mused. "And _Neville_."

"Yes, I went with Luna. No, I don't give a fuck what you think," Neville said, walking off.

"I'm so proud of him," Harrison gushed under his breath.

"You would be, wouldn't you," Miss Granger said flatly, shooting him a pointed look. "Now, what's this nonsense about Ron and Malfoy?"

Perhaps he could talk to the boy tomorrow.

-O-

Tomorrow never came.

-O-

A couple days later, another jar, this one with a beetle, lay right next to an identical jar, that one with a rat in it. Wilbur and the egg had something else to practice on now.

-O-

The Summoning Charm only worked when the caster knew what he was looking for. Harrison's eyes narrowed down at the dark, murky depths that lay before him, ignoring the other champions who dove in when the whistle was blown, and the murmuring audience behind him.

"Mister Potter?" Dumbledore asked, standing behind him.

"Fuck all kinds of duck," Harrison said with a sigh, jumping on top of the water and simply _walking_ until he found... whatever it was he was looking for. Honestly, Hermione was missing and Neville was in the stands, watching with a keen eye. If it was like last time, then Hermione should be Krum's hostage, but who was his?

"Point me, Hermione," Harrison whispered, allowing his wand to go haywire in his palm.

 _I hate water, I hate water, I hate water..._ Harrison thought in mantra, allowing himself to sink slowly. The spell he cast on his feet only worked for so long, and how he _hated_ that fact.

He swam a distance away, keeping an eye open for predators as he followed his wand. Not for the first time, he was glad he put so many damn enchantments on his shades. Dead useful in the funniest of situations, they were.

At first, he thought there were only two hostages, Hermione and a little girl he'd never seen before. But as he looked again, he realized there were three hostages, one he didn't expect.

 _Those bastards broke into my trunk,_ Harrison thought poisonously. Logic _. Nice, calm logic. Deep breath- No wait. I can't breath underwater. Don't Hulk out. Nice, cold logic._ He set Hermione and the little girl free first. He cast a charm on them so they could breath underwater and motioned for them to hold on to him. After a moment of hesitation, they did, and Harrison set his hostage free.

The reaction was instantaneous.

-O-

"I think he broke it..."

"Harry..."

"Could you touch it? Hermione? Hermione? Neville, are you there?"

"There, there, Mister Potter, it's just... a bit bent, is all."

Harrison whimpered and buried his face into his pillow.

After he had cut Slytherin's Locket free, the damn thing sped to dry land, Harrison clutching the chain and the girls holding on to him. Harrison thought he pulled his shoulder doing that. Then the spirit inside of the Locket came out and strangled Harrison like Homer.

The Locket was the most different out of all the Horcruxi. He had long hair. Long enough that reached passed his waist. It honestly surprised Harrison the first time he saw it. Of course, it was probably difficult to wash.

"I WAS A FOOL TO TRUST YOU!"

"If I had known defeating Voldemort was as simple as dunking him underwater, I would have done it earlier," Harrison mutter, his mind foggy from being strangled for so long.

The Locket's eyes blazed and he attacked Harrison one last time before he went back into the locket. Harrison just wished he hadn't hit him _there_.

"I can't _feel_ anything," Harrison whimpered into his hospital bed pillow.

-O-

"I trust you are feeling better, Harrison?" Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling.

Harrison sighed deeply. "I suppose."

"Lemon drop?"

"Thank you."

He happily sucked on the candy in his mouth, ignoring the Minister, the Head of the Auror Apartment and the other dude in the room. He contemplated leaving the room so he wouldn't have to deal with the awkward conversation that was about to happen.

Three hours later, he wished he had. While it was a good thing they weren't denying Voldemort's resurrection, Harrison wished they wouldn't come to him for help. He made his views on the Voldemort issue clear, and no, he was not going to hand over the Horcruxi.

It turns out that extra person in the room was a Social Service councilor. Harrison was too busy being dumbfounded they existed to bother answering any of the young man's questions.

"Learn something new every day," Harrison muttered as he made his way back to the Slytherin dorms.

-O-

 _"What has roots as nobody sees,_  
 _Is taller than trees up, up, up it goes,_  
 _And yet never grows?"_ Harrison said, putting words into the sphinx's mouth.

She frowned at him and thought for a moment. "Mountains."

He smirked at her. _"It cannot be seen, cannot be felt,_  
 _Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt._  
 _It lies behind stars and under hills,_  
 _And empty holes it fills._  
 _It comes first and follows after,_  
 _Ends life, kills laughter."_

She stepped back, her head bowed like she was preparing to attack. "Darkness."

"Good, good." He kissed the ring for good luck. _"This thing all things devours:_  
 _Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;_  
 _Gnaws iron, bites steel;_  
 _Grinds hard stones to meal;_  
 _Slays king, ruins town,_  
 _And beats high mountain down."_ He faded into darkness. "Can you guess what it is?"

Several seconds passed by, the only sounds made by the other champions as they fought their own monsters. With every second, Harrison's smile grew wider and wider.

"Time's up."

The dawning expression on her face was the highlight of his day.

-O-

"The Triwizard Champion is Harrison Potter! Congratulations, Mister Potter!"

"Thank you, thank you very much," Harrison said, taking a bow and hopping off stage.

"What are you going to do this summer, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"What I do every summer, my dear."

"Take over the world?" Neville asked.

Harrison smiled darkly. "Perhaps," he said ominously, boarding the train.

Hermione and Neville looked at each other before shrugging.


	8. Chapter 8: Fifth Year, Part 1

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.** **Or Bioshock. Or, for that matter, Dishonored.**

Chapter 8:

"PADFOOT!" Harrison screamed excitedly as he opened the door, leaning forward to glomp the man. "And Moony," he said, grinning at the man. "Boy, aren't we a blast from the past? Come in, come in."

He set them down in the lounge and set off to make some tea. "So how have you guys been? Getting _down_ and _busy_ , I expect?" he said from the kitchen, an impish grin on his face. He ignored Aunt Petunia's death glare with practiced ease and finished making the tea in record time.

The two men exchanged glances as Harrison set down the tray and handed them their drinks. "Harrison..." Remus started slowly. "We would- not that you have to or anything, but we would like you to..." He took a deep breath. "We would like you to come live with us."

He looked at the two of them slowly. When he was a kid, he dreamed of this moment, a chance to get the fuck away from the Dursleys and their horrible behavior.

But now?

"Er, no offense to you guys, but I kind of like it here-"

"Dudley's still on a diet!" Aunt Petunia yelled from the kitchen.

"Fuck it, let's go."

-O-

Grimmauld Place was still an utter shithole it always was. Harrison spent three days making it decent, ignoring the people who kept coming and going. He vaguely acknowledged the random people that decided to stay, but those moments were far from each other, each one being vaguer than the last.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled, throwing her arms around his neck. He hugged her back briefly before going back to scrubbing. "Harry?"

"He's been like this for a while, Hermione," Neville said, shaking his head. "No one's been able to make him stop, not even Sirius."

"Oh." She stared at him for a while. "Should we help him?"

Neville shrugged. "I don't see why not."

-O-

Harrison wiped his brow with a smug smile. He couldn't do anything about the rotting floorboards, but other than that, Grimmauld was pretty. With that distraction out of the way, he could go back to his main mission.

And that was breaking into Gringotts.

-O-

"Shit."

-O-

"Ow, ow, ow, wow."

-O-

"Son of a-"

-O-

He did things the easy way. He did things the hard way. Hell, he went _Mission: Impossible_ on their arses, and _what_ happens? He gets his arse handed to him on a platter. He was steaming, ready to killing some _motherfucking goblins_ -

Wait.

"Siri, you wouldn't happen to have access to Bellatrix Lestrange's vault, do you?"

"Yes... _why_?"

Harrison cursed up a storm that night.

-O-

He smirked like a shark at the goblins, who sneered in return.

-O-

"JACKPOT!"

The scream echoed across the house for several minutes. Seeing as it was in the middle of the night, many of the residence were Not Happy.

"Harry?" Hermione said through a yawn. "What are you doing?" she asked tiredly.

He grinned at her, a deranged little thing it was. "I," he tapped the picture of a young Voldemort proudly, "am going to release these bothersome teenage hormones on this picture. Don't bother me while I do that, okay?"

"Ew," she said flatly, long after he had left.

-O-

Harrison had never felt so betrayed. Both his friends, _prefects_ , the nerve of them! After all the years spent together, trying to corrupt them, all for _nothing_.

"There, there," Neville said, patting his friend's back, unable to suppress his grin.

-O-

"FILTHY MUDBLOODS!"

"Oh, shit!" Harrison cursed as he stumbled and fell down the stairs. Lady Black had been doing that on and off all summer, using every opportunity to startle him.

The sad thing is, it worked.

"You know what?" Harrison asked as he climbed up the stairs, "I'm sick of your screeching, Mrs. Black, so would you kindly shut up?"

Her mouth was stitched close.

-O-

"Let's see who is the new- Oh, hell."

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to have words with Dumbledore after this..."

-O-

"Headmaster," he said sinisterly as he slinked from the shadows.

"Mister Potter, if this is about you not being a prefect, it has nothing to do with Mister Malfoy's sudden donation to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said firmly, staring at his desk.

"Oh, that's nice to know," Harrison replied, shocked into slipping out of his evil persona. "But that's not why I came here today, Professor. Why didn't you hire Remus, or even Sirius?"

"I beg your pardon?" Dumbledore asked, seemingly shocked.

"Don't toy with me, old man," Harrison hissed, drawing himself up as to appear bigger. "Why did-"

A paper ball flew straight at him and hit him on the forehead. Rubbing his head, he picked it up and unfolded it.

It read, " _Equivalent exchange. Suck it up and deal with it._ -Rabbit."

Fuck.

-O-

 **ADAM can be genetically manipulated to produce tissue and functions that would not normally be present in the human body. It acts-**

"Hem, hem."

He honestly couldn't believe it.

"Hem, hem."

Though the ministry weren't denying Voldemort's return (though a few groups were spectacle since it wasn't the dramatic return they were expecting) they still _dared_ to interfere with Hogwarts and place a _parasite_ in her castle. And he changed so much to make things _interesting_.

"Mister Potter."

Yeah, there was no denying it. His most hated teacher, Dolorus Umbridge, was back, and as annoying as ever.

She was a short, plump woman with a toad like face and with a personality that people loved to hate. And she wore too much pink.

"Yes, Umbridge?" he asked politely, not taking his eyes away from the _fascinating_ book he found in the Black library.

"That's _Professor_ to you, Mister Potter," she said, smiling sweetly. "Why are you not reading the text assigned?"

"I already did. I even did the essay," he said absentmindedly, holding up said essay. It was full of disturbing detail and delightful descriptions of violence. In short, it was exactly the same type of essays he handed in to Snape. "Here, you could read it if you wanted."

 **Bone Charms are mystical objects created from the bones of whales and other animals, each with a unique effect on the user's constitution and-**

"In this class, we read the textbook," she said sweetly, not even glancing at his essay.

"Yes," he said slowly, "which is exactly why nobody likes you."

"Detention, Mister Potter," she said, her sweet smile never fading.

-O-

"Harry, why did you do that?" Hermione asked with a dusty sigh.

"To test a theory," he admitted, still reading his book.

"What theory?"

"You'll see."

-O-

"...you must write 'I will respect my teachers and read the textbook in class."

"How many times?"

"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in," Umbridge said sweetly.

The great thing about Blood Quills? They could be manipulated. He started writing, humming a jolly funeral march, when Umbridge hissed.

He wrote the second line, smirking.

"Potter!"

Third line. Fourth line.

"Mister Potter! Stop that! Stop writing!" she shrieked.

"But it hasn't sunk in yet, Umbridge," he said innocently.

-O-

Harrison giggled under his breath, hiding his face with his hand.

"What's so funny?" Neville asked, still staring at the toad.

"She has no right to do _any_ of this," Harrison whispered, his lips quirked into a deranged smile. "There's a rule that says no interference from government agencies, and another one that says clubs can only be canceled if there's not enough members. I would know since my darling made that last one fifty years ago."

"How old is Voldemort again?" Neville whispered hoarsely, ignoring the sudden outbreak of whispers around them.

"Let's see... He was born at the end of 1926... so he's... damnit..."

"What?"

"He's sixty- _eight_ right now. That would have been an awesome punchline."

"Wow. He looks _good_ for an old man."

"Thanks, Neville," Harrison said, smiling at him. "But if you try to touch **_my_ ** man..."

"Luna! I have a confession to make!"

 _I did_ not _see that coming,_ Harrison thought, startled as Neville went on one leg in front of the dazed Luna.

-O-

"And I'm telling you again; you have no right to disband this club. Only the _headmaster_ has the right, and even then, he has to find something illegal before he can even do that. In short, piss off," Harrison said before slamming the door in her face.

-O-

He quickly found himself annoyed at her constant attempts at tyranny.

-O-

"If this is about the leaky facets that are suspiciously near Umbridge's office, I assure you, it has nothing to do with me," Harrison said firmly upon arriving at Dumbledore's office.

"And I assure you, Mister Potter, that the itching powder found in all of Professor Umbridge's clothes has nothing to do with me either," Dumbledore said, equally firm, eyes twinkling. "But that's not why I called you here today. Come, sit."

"Oh," he said, plopping down into his seat. He accepted the lemon drop and rolled it in his mouth. "So... what's up?"

Dumbledore's beard twitched. "Have you noticed anything... strange recently?"

Harrison thought about it. He felt inexplicable flashes of rage, daydreamed about Voldemort, and caused several accidents to happen around Umbridge. In short, it was exactly like he was a teenager again.

"No, not really," Harrison said, shaking his head.

Dumbledore looked oddly disappointed. "Are you sure, my boy?"

He stared at him for a second. "Actually, Headmaster, could I share something with you? Something that will never leave this room?"

"Of course, Harrison," Dumbledore said gently, leaning forward.

"You're going to have to replace the DADA professor a month before school ends. And you'll never find her body."

The Headmaster choked.

-O-

"I don't need career advice," he said as soon as he stepped into Snape's office, ignoring the witch standing on Snape's side. "I already have a job and I've kept up well with it, even if I have to come here."

"And what job would that be, Potter?" Snape asked silkily, ignoring the pink monstrosity that was furiously writing notes.

"Investment," he said quickly, realizing he might be fined for joining a guild under aged. "I've invested in a lot of Diagonally's- _Diagon_ Ally's shops and some over in America." _Especially the ones with the burgers. Hmm..._ _Beef_. "I mean, I haven't made much, but I'm getting by with what I've got and-"

"Yes, yes," Snape said impatiently. "But do you have idea what you _truly_ want to do once you graduate, Potter?"

Harrison ducked his head and blushed, hoping Snape wouldn't see his face. "I want to..." he whispered under his breath.

"You want to what, Potter?" Snape growled.

"I wanna be a potions master!" Harrison confessed, practically dying on the spot.

-O-

He Oblivated them and did the career advice thing again... twice more before he got it right. It... wasn't his best moment.


	9. Chapter 9: Fifth Year, Part 2

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.** **Or the riddle.**

Chapter 9:

Rose Zeller was a half-blood Hufflepuff who would very much like to pass her Hogwarts years unnoticed, if the rumor mill was to be trusted. See, they had a celebrity going there, and he was a Slytherin. He didn't act like a Slytherin though, what with hanging out with Gryffindors and harassing Professor Snape and all. He didn't make derog- derog- he didn't make _mean_ remarks about anyone about their blood status, though he did have a habit of pointing out things.

And jumping to conclusions.

Anyway, the point was, she never wanted him to notice her. Because when he noticed people, their lives seemed to change- for good or for bad. That, and his unhealthy obsession with V- the Dark Lord was frankly, terrifying. Because really, who would want to love their parents' killer?!

With that opinion, she got under the cover and went to sleep... until Harrison Potter popped up and tapped her awake. Needless to say, she screamed bloody murder.

"Pipe down, wouldja?" Horatio Pershore, a second year Slytherin, snapped at her.

Potter gave him an amused glance, quickly tucking an hourglass looking necklace back into the labels of his robes which had popped out when he jumped at her scream. "We're not here to hurt you," he said soothingly to her. "We're just here to gather the firsties and the seconds and have a quick trip down to the Great Hall. No harm, no foul."

It never occurred to her that she could have refused.

Potter quickly woke up the others who hadn't awaken to Rose's scream and made them follow him to the other dorms ("I'm lighter than a feather, but even the world's strongest man can't hold me. What am I?" "Breath."). After they had gather everyone, Potter really did take them to the Great Hall, where everything had changed.

The tables were pushed to the side to the side in favor of setting down blankets. In between some of the blankets, a cauldron sat, something bubbling inside, cups and a small table. When Rose got closer, she realized it was chocolate, though she did wonder how Potter had muted the smell. Potter did a quick demonstration on how to get marshmallows and graham crackers (ask politely and hold your hand out) from the table and you could ask the cup to change the chocolate from the thick stuff to a nice coco.

This was too good to be true.

"And now I'm going to read you a story," Potter said with a maniacal grin.

And there it is.

And since it was Potter, it would probably give them nightmares for the rest of their lives, much like Disney did.

On cue, there was moaning and whining. Potter hushed them and bustled around, getting a flashlight and directing it to a wall.

"I'm sure many of you will recognize this tale I'm about to tell you," Potter said, still adjusting the light. "And I'm sure many of you have a very different version of what I'm about to tell you, but we're sticking to _my_ version tonight, _capisce_?"

"Yeah, yeah," the kids grumbled.

"Good," Potter said with that same shark grin. Then all the lights went out except for the flashlight and Potter's voice projected over them all.

"There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at... twilight? midnight? Definitely nowhere in the morning, alright." With dawning realization, Rose knew which tale he was telling. The shadow tricks he had going was a nice difference though.

"In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across." The shadows showed the three look at each other in puzzlement. "However, these brothers were trained in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure."

Several of them screamed and shrank away when a menacing, and quite large shadow appeared and blocked the brother shadows path.

"And Death with a capital 'D' spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic, and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him.

"So the eldest brother, who was a combative, jerk jock asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence: a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard that had conquered **_Death_**! So Death went up to an elder tree on the banks of the river, and butchered said tree to form a wand. Then he gave it to the eldest.

"Then the second brother, who was an arrogant arse, decided that he wanted to humiliate Death even further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and threw it at the power, piercing his eye and leaving him every dysfunctional for the rest of his short life."

The children went on protest. "That's not how the story goes!"

"Fine, fine. Death calmly handed the arse the stone and he lived without having to dig out the stone from his head. Said stone had the power to bring back the dead, by the by.

"And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he wanted. The youngest brother was the humblest and wisest of them all, and he did not trust Death. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth without being followed by Death. And Death, reluctantly, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility.

"Then Death stood aside and allowed the three to continue on their way, and they did so, talking with wonder of their goodies.

"In due course, the brothers separated, each with their own destination in mind.

"The first brother traveled on for a week or so, and reaching a distant village, sought out a fellow wizard whom he had a quarrel. Naturally, he won and, with his enemy dead on the floor, the brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted, drunkenly, of the powerful wand and how he got it from Death himself.

"That very night, a wizard shanked him in his sleep and stole the wand.

"And thus, Death took the first brother for his own.

"For centuries, men would fight over this wand, until one day, it ended in the hands of a young Dark Lord." Everyone exchanged alarmed glances as a shadow with dark blue eyes appeared, stealing the wand from a sleeping shadow. "He caused great mischief and mayhem with that wand, until one day, his former best friend, and maybe lover stopped him." A shadow appeared over the blue eyed shadow's collapsed figure, twinkling tears falling down it's face. "Heartbroken, he too took the wand and vowed to protect the future generations with the power he knows not.

"Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here, he took out the stone that had the power to recall the dead, and turned it three times in his hand. To his amazement and delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her timely death, appeared before him.

"Yet, she was sad and cold, separated from him by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not belong there. Finally, the second brother committed suicide in order to join her.

"And so, Death took the second brother for his own.

"Centuries later, a young boy found it." This shadow had glowing, red eyes. It was... strange to say the least. "Contemplating his woes, he turned it three times in his hand. Before his eyes, the woman who died giving birth to him appeared before him. He asked her questions, questions she could not answer. Soon, she disappeared out of sight. Enraged, he corrupted the stone and tossed it aside, leaving it hidden for his champion to find."

They were disturbed by the faint smile that was present in Potter's words.

"Anyway, though Death searched for the third brother for years, he could never find him. It was only when he had attained great age that the youngest took off the cloak and gave it to his son. And then he greeted Death as an old friend and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life.

"The end."

"What happened to the Cloak of Invisibility?" a random kid shouted from the back.

"You know Invisibility Cloaks wear out," Potter said dismissively, turning off the flashlight and turning on the main lights. Many of them rubbed their eyes in irritation.

"Yeah, but it's made out of Death's Cloak! It should last forever!"

"Yes, well," Potter said lamely seconds before the doors to the Great Hall burst open. Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape stood there, a deadly seriousness on their faces. "NO I DO NOT HAVE THE CLOAK! WHOEVER TOLD YOU IS A LIAR! YOU'RE A LIAR!"

...

...

...

Calmly, Headmaster Dumbledore said, "Mister Potter, have you been in here the whole time?"

He shrugged. "Here, there, elsewhere," he said, pointing left, right and up. "But right now? Yeah, I've been here most of the time. So... what's up?"

 _Only_ Potter _could get away with saying that to the_ Headmaster, Rose thought watching the two like the rest of the Hall was doing.

"Oh, nothing much," the Headmaster said airily. "Professors Snape and McGonagall, why don't you two escort the children to their beds while I have a talk with Mister Potter?"

Grumbling, the children followed the two out of the Hall. When Rose looked back, she saw the two of them having a twinkling contest.


	10. Chapter 10: Fifth Year, Part 3

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.**

 **Thanks for all the reviews, favorites and follows!  
**

Chapter 10:

 **Somewhere, far, far away from Hogwarts...**

Nurse Hart sighed. Yesterday, a young man dropped off his _grandmère_ who had many, many problems. For one thing, she was racist to the _extreme_ and claimed the young man wasn't her grandchild. With the proper identification check, it had been confirmed they were related. "She's just in denial," the young man said with a sigh, exasperated. "We've been putting this off for years, you know? Hoping she'd get better. But when she started calling us all 'mudbloods' and... other things around the children, well, you know..."

The nurses' hearts went out to him and they promised to give his _grandmère_ the best care. He smiled at them angelically and had a private chat with the pink lady.

"THE MINISTRY WILL FIND ME AND LOCK YOU UP! MARK MY WORDS, POTTER!"

"Could you give her some fudge? Dark chocolate is her favorite," he said, smiling apologetically at them.

"Of course, Mister Riddle," Nurse Hart said with a smile.

-O-

"Harry, what did you do with Umbridge?" Hermione demanded, slamming down a book for emphasis.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harrison said defensively, popping his feet on the table and crossing his arms. "Besides, why do I always take the blame?"

"Because you're the only one who does all the crazy shit around here," Neville said absentmindedly, not looking up from his book.

" _Neville_ ," Harrison whined.

"It's true, Harry," Hermione huffed. "Whenever something's strange going on, you're either at the bottom of it, or you're about to be."

"Oh, come on!"

He didn't speak to them for the rest of the day.

-O-

O.W.L.s were intense. More intense they were than last time. He thought he did pretty well, regardless. Of course, he wished he could skip the useless questions, but he went on ahead and described history in it's most goriest fashion. At one point, he _knew_ he confused Mordor and the wizarding world, but he didn't care. Let the examiners be confused right along with him!

Good news was, Hermione shanked the O.W.L.s, even if she was nervous about it. Bad news was Voldemort was agitated. By what, he had no idea for once.

-O-

"My head," Harrison whined, rubbing his temple.

"Harry?" Neville started. "How did you get in here?"

"Wasn't easy, with a password like 'barnacles'," Harrison groaned. "Fuck, it feels like someone's ramming an ice pick into my brain."

"Harry... your eyes are red."

"Yeah, I haven't been getting much sleep lately." _Not that I've ever gotten much sleep..._

"No, I mean... your eyes are literally _red_ , Harry."

He froze, realizing _exactly_ what was going on. "Oh... crap."

-O-

"You know," Harrison commented drily upon seeing his own mindscape a total mess. "The journey to the center of the mind thing has become a bit... cliché, don't you think?"

" _I_ would like to see a mind that isn't one big metaphor," a voice said flatly behind him. He turned and-

" _Darling_ ," he said happily, wrapping his arms around the man, who tolerated the embrace for less than a second before yanking him off. "What are you doing here?" he asked, perfectly fine with being dangled by his collar.

"I would like to ask the same question, Potter." Voldemort looked suspiciously around. "Is this another one of Dumbledore's plots?" he asked, turning back to Harrison with a suspicious frown.

"I haven't seen him plot in a long time, but... _probably..._ not," Harrison said, tilting his head.

"Probably?"

"You know those lemon drops he's so fond of? Yeah... I've concluded the ones he hides in his desk are drugs."

Voldemort looked tempted to ask, but didn't. Instead, he dropped Harrison and walked down the narrow pathway without looking back.

"Hey, wait for me!"

-O-

" _What_ ," Voldemort growled, holding up a... thingy, "are these things?"

Harrison kept quiet, not knowing how to explain his weird as _fuck_ mind and it's defenses.

-O-

"I wouldn't if I were you," Harrison warned upon seeing Voldemort approach a rabbit shaped door. Not that he could open it anyway, but it was a fair warning.

Of course, he was ignored and they had to fight a boss monster for _touching_ the door.

-O-

"Potter, why do you pretend?"

Startled, Harrison dropped the potion he was examining. It shattered loudly and attracted a monster.

"P-Pretend? What do you mean?" Harrison asked nervously.

"Why do you pretend to be in love with me?" Voldemort asked calmly, dispatching frostbite spider with an extravagant swish of his wand.

Harrison was quiet for a long, long time.

-O-

"I'm not pretending," Harrison whispered softly, trying not to show how nervous he was. "I know I come off as... _psychotic_ at times, and I do things- socially _unacceptable_ things- out of boredom, but _please_ , believe that I do love you, Voldemort... And I know you will never love me back, but I _still_..."

 _I want to_ be _with you, through thick and thin, past the end and all the flowery things in bad romances. Please know that I would never_ willingly _betray you, love._

Voldemort stared at him in shock before the world broke.

-O-

"I want to kill something," Harrison slurred upon waking up.

"Good morning to you to, Mister Potter," Dumbledore said drily, closing his book and setting it aside. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I played Arkham Knight for fifty hours without getting off the Batmobile," Harrison griped. "In short: like shit."

"Good to know," Dumbledore said with a twitch of the lips. "Do you know what happened?"

"Divine Retribution," Harrison said firmly. "I suppose I shouldn't have said anything about arrows or knees around the aurors, but I couldn't resist."

Dumbledore made a mental note to ask about this later, when Harrison wasn't drugged out of his mind. "Is that so? Tell me, my boy... what did you dream about?"

"I dreamed that I'd gone insane after me and my parents' house burned in a horrific fire, and my therapist defiled my sister before the fire. I, of course, was very traumatized. Oh, and I was a girl for some reason."

"Oh, Hecate," Dumbledore muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, and then everything was LEGO and we couldn't talk for some reason or another."

"Poppy, could you give him a Dreamless Sleep? I think he'll need it."

"And THEN I was dishonored when the Empress died, and I was in prison for six months! It sucked like smack, and I had to break out WITHOUT killin' anyone..."

"...Of course, Headmaster. Of course..."

-O-

"There, there," Harrison said awkwardly, patting his friends' backs as they cried on them.

He'd been passed out for weeks, his scar bleeding purposely the entire time. Poor Neville had to drag him to the infirmary and Hermione only heard about it two days after. They researched what was wrong with him only to turn up empty every time. Madam Pomfrey could only do so much and had to continuously change his bandage. She even called St. Mungo's, only for them to be baffled as well.

"I feel great now, better than before even! When can I leave?"

"Never," Madam Pomfrey said flatly.

"What? NO!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You can get out of here when your magical core heals up. Until then, you're stuck here."

"In other words, forever," Neville said with a smirk. "Have fun, Harry!"

"You people are _so_ lucky I can't feel my legs!" Harrison yelled after them.

In the meantime, he sought to write a letter.

-O-

Snape scowled down at Harrison. At this point, he was very used to it and had no problem with staring back at him. Difference was that they were in the hospital wing and Harrison actually requested his presence.

"I need you to deliver this for me, Snape," he said, holding out a thick envelope.

Snape sneered. "I am not your-"

"To the Dark Lord," Harrison continued, a dark smirk curling at his lips.

It was worth seeing the scared shitless look on his face.

-O-

He groaned when another spike of pain went through his skull.

-O-

He stoically tolerated the doctor's examination and allowed the retched excuse for a man to touch him with his magic. He dearly wished to let it go and kill the man, but he'd already done that to the previous three doctors and he was getting rather tired of ordering Luscious to find a doctor that wouldn't talk.

He couldn't feel his legs, his magic was depleted and Potter left him in a moral dilemma. Life was great. Wonderful even.

"My Lord?" the doctor asked cautiously. He lazily turned his head to look the idiot man in the eye. "Professor Snape is here."

His eyes slowly turned to look at the Potions Master ( _traitortraitortraitordiediediepiekillmurder_ ) who had a pained look on his face as if someone stabbed him and left him to struggle against a wall.

"Severus," he said, feeling amazingly calm. "What can I do for you?"

"My Lord," Snapple said, bowing shortly. "I was... given a letter. They were very insistent you received it."

He sighed and closed his eyes, relaxing into the cushions. "Is it urgent?"

"No, however-"

"Take advantage of my generous patience and leave. _Now_."

"It's from Potter, my Lord," Snapple blurted out.

His eyes snapped open. "Oh, really?" Fuck, he didn't have his glasses. And he damn sure wasn't going to put them on in front of these two. What to do, what to do...

"Would you like me to read it my Lord? Surely, it's just teenage drivel..."

"No-" Too late.

 _"Dear Voldemort,_

 _I have a diary, a locket and a tiara,_

 _My soul is in pieces,_

 _But my heart is at peace,_

 _What am I?_

 _-Harry,_ " Snapple read. Before he could ask any questions, he hit the man with an Obliviate, and, as an afterthought, hit the doctor as well. Great, just when he wanted to be _nice_ for once...

"My Lord?" Luscious asked, stumbling upon the scene just as he calmed his racing heart. He accidentally hit the man with an Obliviate as well. Damn it all, if _one_ more person stumbled upon this scene he created...

"Wanker," he growled. The house elf appeared with a shudder. "Give me the letter in Snapple's hand and... do something with the bodies. And tell everyone I'm not to be disturbed. Fools, the lot of them," he muttered, snuggling nice and comfortable into his bed.

He burned the letter, cursing the realization that Potter was a horcrux.

-O-

Hermione was glaring at the cheshire smile on her friend's face. She knew he knew she wanted to ask why he was so giddy after moping for so long in the hospital wing, but she wouldn't give in. Never!

Neville rolled his eyes. "What's up, Harry?"

" _So_ glad you asked, my friend," Harrison said, practically jumping on the spot. She glared at her other friend. "See this? _This_ means I've _finally_ broken him. And I'm set for _life_."

She quickly read the letter. In it, it basically said that Voldemort accepted Harrison courtship. Only...

"'No hugging, no kissing until the wedding that never will be,'" she said, slightly amused. "Harrison, you do realize just because he's accepted your... _attention_ , it doesn't mean he's accepted _you_."

"Oh, I know," he replied, kicking out his feet and swinging back and forth. "But this means he isn't _running away_ from me either. It also means he can't get out of the family dinner I have planned."

-O-

Miles away, Voldemort sneezed.

-O-

"You're a sadist," Hermione said blandly. "Have you told the Headmaster?"

" _Nooo_... And I don't plan to."

"Harry!"

"Hermione!" he replied, in the exact same tone. "Let me have my fun, won't you?"

"That's all you've been doing!" Hermione said with a pout.

"I know. I'm lovin' it!"


	11. Chapter 11: Summer

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.**

 **Ah, am I almost done? *looks at calendar* Four more months of college to go. Damn it.**

Chapter 11:

"Don't wait on me now, hurry up and eat," Potter said cheerfully. He bustled off to the kitchen and left Padfoot and Moony to stare at the Dark Lord, who stared back blankly.

…

…

…

 _...Awkward._

Voldemort calmly reached through the label of his jacket (Potter forced him to dress muggle again. He was just glad he didn't look like a pimp this time) and, ignoring the way the two men tensed, pulled out a cigar and flask. He put the cigar in his mouth and fumbled with the cork.

"No smoking at the table!" Potter called from the kitchen.

"Tch." He put his cigar away and simply watched the other two men, who didn't make a move toward the delicious food Potter sat out. _Wait a minute, isn't this a bit too much for just four men? Then again, one of us is twelv_ _e._ _.._

The doorbell rang. "I'll get that," Black said, throwing the Dark Lord a wary glance. He ignored the man and engaged in a staring contest with the werewolf. _Potter would probably get mad if I invaded his mind..._

Black came back with three people trailing behind him. A rake thin woman, a fat businessman and his even bigger son. They were dressed in formal muggle clothing that, frankly, made them seem rather out of place here.

"Aunt Petunia, Vernon, Dudley! Welcome to my humble home. Sit anywhere," Potter said, zipping in and getting right into their faces with a ghoulish grin. Voldemort was amused to note how disturbed they were, whether at Potter's appearance or the décor was his guess. _Still though..._ his eyes flicked toward the businessman who sat at the end of the table, _muggle, so_ obviously _muggle_.

"Harry, how many people did you invite?" Lupin asked, sounding worried.

"Oh, just seven people," Potter said with a smile. "The rest should be here any moment." With that, he bustled off to the kitchen, undoubtedly to fill in the empty spaces that were still left on the table.

Once again, awkward silence. Voldemort contented with sipping at his whiskey, resisting the urge to just throw it all back and start drinking to oblivion. It would be bad form, and he didn't trust Potter not to take advantage of him in his weakened state. And he had a feeling they were going to reenact Ten Little Murder Victims, with him being the obvious suspect.

The doorbell rang again. "I'll get that!" Lupin said, clearly wanting to get away from the atmosphere just as much as the rest of them. He went downstairs and there was a bit of chatting before he emerged with three others.

"Oh, Mister Voldemort! It's good to see you again," the bushy haired girl said, walking up to him and shaking his hand. The boy behind her choked on his spit.

"I'm sure," Voldemort replied flatly. _Do I know you?_

"Voldemort?" the woman- Petunia- whispered. He looked over at her and quirked an eyebrow. "Are you-?"

"And we are set to go!" Potter said, flopping in his chair. He flicked his wrist and plates of food came, pouring out of the kitchen like clockwork. "Ah, my back hurts. Do we know everyone here? No? Okay, lets eat." A fork and a knife flipped out of his sleeves and he eagerly cut into the steak that had already been placed on his plate. The sight nearly made him flinch. He controlled himself. Just barely.

The girl beside him snorted. _"_ _Harry."_

Potter sighed and stood up. "Luna, Neville, Remus, Petunia, Vernon, Dudley, Sirius, Hermione, Voldemort," he said quickly, pointing at them in order. "There, now we know each others names. That's good enough, for now." He pulled his chair back in and sat down, looking, for all intends, content with the world.

Voldemort rolled his eyes and dumped a pile of mash potatoes on his plate. Cue silent dinner scene where the camera pans over each of their faces in order to get a reaction shot. Good for using up five seconds in an otherwise short movie...

 _Potter, get out of my head._

 _But-_

 _Shut the fuck up and eat._

 _...Fine._

"How did you enjoy Hogwarts this year?" Lupin asked quietly to the boy- Neville. The almost boy who lived. He wondered if things would have turned out differently if he had targeted the other one. Would Potter still be obsessed with him? Or would it be Neville who would stalk him to the ends of Mordor?

He ceased the line of questioning. Though it did go down a disturbing and entertaining trail of thought, he didn't want to attract Potter's attention. He knew curious thoughts like that always got Potter's attention, just like it did in his own mindscape.

"It was okay. Harry did something to the Defense teacher... again."

"Hey! I didn't have anything to do with Lockhart or Corner!"

"But you're not denying your involvement with the rest of them," Hermione pointed out, to which Potter pouted.

"They were absolute shit teachers. No offense, Voldemort," Potter said quickly.

He sighed. "None taken." One of the worst years of his life, one he didn't want to relive, since, from his point of view, that happened close to ten... fifteen(?) years ago. He spent a long time in Mordor, alright?

The children's eyes were drawn together. "Huh?"

"He's Quirrellmort," Potter said, jerking his head in Voldemort's direction. He twitched and bent his spoon in half with his thumb.

"Quirrell? Our first year teacher?" Neville gaped.

"Hello," Voldemort said drily, feeling very much in the spotlight.

" _Quirrell?"_

"I had a bad year, okay?" Voldemort said, exasperated as the two children gaped at him, Potter smirking in the corner of his eye.

The businessman frowned. "What should we call you then?"

"Oh, I have a variety of names," Voldemort said dismissively. "Lord Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Heir of Slytherin, Murderer of Godric's Hollow, Dragon Knight, King Under the Mountain, Bringer of Insanity," he glared at Potter at this point, who looked away and tried (and failed) to control his smile, "but _you_ may call me Mister Riddle, if you so desire."

"Or, better yet, Tom," Potter quipped.

"No," Voldemort sighed, shaking his head. "Just... _No_."

" _You_." He turned his head to see the woman, _Petunia?_ rising out of her chair. " _You_."

It's rather amazing how people could put so much emotion into one word. In this case, _rage_.

" _You murdered my sister."_

Ah. One of _those_ people. "To be fair, I murdered both his parents and I _tried_ several times to kill him. Yet, he's still here." He took a moment to glare at the smiling boy, who didn't seem at all disturbed by his words.

Her face flushed angrily and she grabbed her son's wrist and left as fast as possible, her husband trailing behind them. She slammed the door shut on her way out.

Potter giggled and continued eating. After a few moments, the rest of the table did the same.

"Shall we gather for whiskey and cigars tonight, my lord?" Potter said with a smirk once everyone was finished eating.

Voldemort quirked an eyebrow. "Indeed, I believe we shall."

"But not before presents," Hermione said quickly, getting up and walking downstairs. Potter sighed heavily and followed her reluctantly.

Presents? He just received an invitation in the mail (and a dream threatening/begging him to come). Should he have brought a present? He wondered how long he could pop off and not be noticed. _Hmm..._

 _You can go into the secret room, if you so desire. And don't worry about the present. Your presence is enough._

Voldemort squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn't keep the imagine spot of Potter jumping him the moment he closed the door out of his mind, but he still managed to solve the puzzle on the door and walk through it. The door slammed shut and locked right behind him, with statues glaring at him with glowing red eyes.

 _Oh, great, I'm back in Mordor,_ Voldemort thought flatly, taking out his knife.

-O-

Meanwhile, downstairs, Harrison was pouting.

Everyone was gathered around him, singing. Someone forced a party hat on his head and a stick thing in his mouth. Everyone was horrifyingly cheerful and there was a giant as fuck cake he didn't personally make right in front of him, having way too many candles. He knew they were enjoying this a little too much.

"Make a wish, Harry," Luna said calmly and dreamily. It was nice there were some things that would never change.

He had to think for a moment. What did he want...? He blew out the candles and tried to bolt again, only for Remus to hold him back and force him to open the presents.

"Oh fuck!" he said to one particular present that made him blush. Sirius looked over his shoulder and went bug eyed.

"Who gave you that?"

"It wasn't you?" He turned the present over, careful to make sure it's contents weren't seen and scowled. "Huh."

"Who's this? An alias?" Remus asked, looking at the name.

"No, I'm pretty sure that's their real name."

He put the present to the side and moved on to the next present, slapping Hermione's hand when she tried to reach over and look at the dirty present, and glared at Neville when he successfully looked at the present. Luna's eyes glinted strangely as she looked at him.

-O-

"I have no idea what I'm doing," Voldemort admitted, touching a random statue, causing a door to open behind him. "Huh."

"Having fun, darling?" Potter's purred from behind him. He spun around and pressed his knife to the boy's throat. "Ah, don't be like that, darling."

"Potter," he sighed, sheathing his knife. "What do you want?"

"To spend the night with you!" The boy quickly moved so he was in Voldemort's embraces and cuddled him. He rolled his eyes and tugged at the boy's collar, to no avail.

"Potter," he warned. He was ignored.

"I know you'll never love me. I just want... your _devotion_ ," Potter purred, nuzzling his chest. He shuddered and grabbed the boy's shoulders.

"Potter, please, let go."

Potter sighed and did what he said.

For the rest of the night, they solved puzzles together. Voldemort wondered (without his permission) if this was a date. He was having fun, though Potter was raging at the particularly... not _hard_ , but _strange_ puzzles he couldn't solve. He then wondered if he was enjoying the puzzles or the boy's company...

He shuddered.


	12. Chapter 12: Sixth Year, Part 1

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.**

 **Thank you for the support. Sorry for the wait. My only excuse is college and... Skyrim.**

Chapter 12:

"Hermione! What are you doing?!" Harrison screeched, a bit hysterically, on the train back to Hogwarts.

She looked up absentmindedly and, upon seeing it was just Harrison, Neville and Luna, went back to the journal she was reading. _Harrison's_ journal to be precise.

"Gimme!" Harrison yelled, charging her. "Gimme, gimme, gimme!"

She easily held the journal above his head, still reading it. "It amazes me, Harry, how much work you put into this," she said absentmindedly. "You've been planning this for six years, haven't you?"

He finally snatched the journal from her and held it protectively against his chest. "How far did you read?" he asked, trying and failing to not blush.

"Oh, that was the second time I read it," Hermione said, smiling innocently. "By the way, do you really think he'll let you be the man of the relationship?"

Harrison curled into a ball and whimpered.

-O-

"Do you think it's time I chose a successor?" Harrison wondered idly as he put jam on his toast.

Neville blinked at him. "Well, we have a year left... So, yeah?"

"It's hard to believe it's almost over, isn't it?" Hermione said sadly.

"Yeah... No more running around and driving people crazy."

"No more keeping track of Harry."

"No more clubs."

They all sighed.

"But we had a good run, didn't we," Harrison said, smiling. "And we didn't get into as much trouble as I expected."

"Guys, we still have a year left. It's a bit early to be having this talk," Neville pointed out, smiling sadly.

"Yeah, we should have this talk at graduation... What were we originally talking about?"

"No idea."

-O-

"You asked to see me, Headmaster?" Harrison whispered, slinking out of the shadows of Dumbledore's office.

"Ah, Mister Potter. I trust you had a good break?" Dumbledore said, smiling.

"I had a good one, yes. Better than I had expected honestly," Harrison replied, mirroring Dumbledore's smile.

They were both ignoring the Ministry officials that were cluttering the room.

"Lemon drop?"

"Please, thank you."

One of the officials slammed his hand on a table. "Enough of this idly chit chat! Tell us everything you know about the Dark Lord, Potter!"

Harrison quirked an eyebrow. "I assume you know of my views on this whole issue?"

"Of course we do," the lone female official said dreamily. She reminded him of Luna actually. "But we would appreciate any information we can get."

"In case you forgot, your 'crush' is a serial killer," another one sneered.

Harrison sighed. "Alrighty, fine. What kind of info do you want?"

The official frowned. "You're giving up a little too easily."

"Because I don't believe you can take him down, no matter how much information you have on him," Harrison said smugly. "Only _I_ can make him bend, and do you think I would make him do that?"

"Yes," the female one said immediately. "With the right incentive."

"Oh? What do you have in mind?"

They exchanged glances. Harrison wondered what was going through their tiny minds. What could they possible give him to make him imprison his love?

Without even thinking about it, he dodged one of their hexes. His eyes widened as they went into action, his body moving without his consent. Dodge, weave and strike. It was almost like they were dancing if only they weren't trying to bound him. Dumbledore hadn't moved at all, simply watching from his chair with a tired look in his eyes.

Finally, one of them actually hit him with a spell. He didn't recognize it and outwardly, it did nothing to him but produce a red orb that quickly fell to the floor. He hadn't even drawn his wand when he took down the last official.

"Is that how they do things nowadays? Attack an underage wizard without warning?" Harrison asked, pulling one of their arms painfully behind their back. The Luna-like official groaned and weakly cast a spell on the orb, which made it disappear.

Harrison frowned. "Headmaster, are they really Ministry officials like I had assumed, or are they Order members?"

"I think the correct word for this group would be 'vigilantes'," the Headmaster said with a sigh. "I see your club activities as payed off, my boy."

"Indeed." He pulled the arm back some more, hearing the man under him scream a little. "What was that spell, and what were your intentions?" _Especially with Dumbledore in the room, dumbarse._

When he didn't answer, he pulled back harder. "FUCK."

"Are you gonna talk or am I going to have to get violent?"

"Mister Potter, let him go."

"Headmaster?"

"Now, Mister Potter."

With a sigh, he did as he was told. But he still used the man as a chair. "What should we do with them, Headmaster? Report them to the Ministry?" he said, refraining from putting the mocking edge into his voice.

"Perhaps they will tell us their intentions before that, hmm?"

One of them laughed breathlessly, turn on his side so he could face them where he laid on the floor. "Tell me, Potter, how much do you _really_ know about the Dark Lord?"

"What did you guys do?" Harrison asked suspiciously.

"That orb," the lone female groaned, "contains every single memory, every single _thought_ you've ever had about the Dark Lord."

Oh fuck.

…

"FUCK."

"You realize Mister Potter is a teenage boy with a crush, don't you?" Dumbledore said, taking off his glasses and rubbing his temple.

He flipped the man he was sitting on over and put his hands around the man's neck. "Where did the orb go?! Where, you motherfucker, WHERE?!"

He punched the guy when he didn't answer and ran out of the room. He didn't stop running until he found Hermione, who was in the Great Hall and actually eating for once.

"Hermione, you have to help me! These douchenozzles ambushed me in Dumbledore's office and did something!" he said, shaking her back and forth.

She smacked him and straightened herself out. "What's the problem, Harry?" she asked, ignoring Harrison's pout.

"Eh, a bunch of idiots ganged up on me in Dumbledore's office, but I beat them up pretty quickly," Harrison said, shrugging. "But if you come across a shiny red orb, give it to me immediately, okay?"

"Like that one?" Neville asked, pointing at said red orb that was just floating in the headmaster's chair.

"Well, I'll be damned," Harrison said flatly. "By the way, Hermione, have you ever heard of a spell that can take specific memories and place them in an object? And by specific, I mean subject matter, not a complete memory."

"Hmm... There might be something in the restricted section on that... Did someone come to interrogate you about Voldemort?" Hermione asked, getting up along with Neville to follow him to the headmaster's chair.

"Yeah... But I've never heard of such a spell. Either way, I don't appreciate someone trying to get into my head," Harrison said coldly, lifting up his shades to examine the orb. "Hmm..."

He cautiously took the orb into the palm in his hand and, with a bright flash, Tom Riddle stood before him.

Well, shit.

 **Author's Note:**

 **For real though, thank you for all the support even though I've been gone for the last couple of months. I've been stressed the fuck out with reality and writing wasn't as much of a stress reliever compared to video games. At least for me anyway.**

 **And to answer your question, philippii (if you're reading this at all, and considering you posted the question on Delirium), no, Rabbit is not from Carnovous Muffin. They're from my very first fanfiction** ** _Exposition of the Rabbit Masked Person,_** **where I tried to establish the universe and Harrison and Hayden first started out. I hope that cleared things up. :)**


	13. Chapter 13: Sixth Year, Part 2

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. Or Skyrim.**

Chapter 13:

"Harry… which memory is this?" Hermione asked, staring at the _very_ young Tom.

"Uh…"

This Tom was a child. Six to nine years old, Harrison guessed. He sat in a white chair, staring vacantly at the world around him. He was so cute and tiny, like a kitten, but even back then, Tom was dangerous.

A man entered the scene, wearing a white coat. Just like that, Harrison knew which memory this was.

"Everyone, get out. I'm not joking; get out," Harrison commanded, rage burning in his eyes as he stared at the man.

"Hello, Tom," the man said.

"Doctor," Tom said simply.

"How are you feeling today, Tom?"

Tom shrugged.

The man sighed. "Well, let's get started."

"I have been wondering something about you, Doc," Tom said, finally blinking. "When will you stop?"

"Stop?" the man echoed.

Tom jerked his head in a nod. "Yes, with the children? It's no fun playing with broken toys." He pouted.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," the man said, sounding almost nervous.

Tom stared at the man unnervingly, slowly tilting his head. He sighed. "Well, accidents happen, I suppose."

Harrison threw a darkness spell over everyone's eyes.

A metal cabinet fell over and crushed the man, splattering blood all over Tom's face. The child blinked slowly.

He giggled.

The scene ended and the orb shattered.

-O-

"We need to find all these damn shards. It could spell disaster for me if we don't!" Harrison announced at his club meeting, slamming his hand hard down on a table, which hurt like a bitch by the way.

One of his minions raised her hand. "Lord Business? Who were those people and what are the shards?"

"I would label them vigilantes since they do not bow to the Order of the Phoenix or the Ministry… and they're clearly not Death Eaters, so a whole new group. The shards contain Voldemort and my memories, centered completely around Voldemort. Needless to say, many of them are traumatizing to the more innocent mind, so do not touch them before calling me. Any more questions?"

"Why should we follow you? The Dark Lord will clearly never change- and you have no intention of changing him yourself," Neville asked calmly.

"…I have plans to encourage Voldemort to retire," Harrison admitted.

"That's true. What was it again? The 'Hundred Year Honeymoon'?" Hermione said with a smirk on her face.

Harrison failed to hold his blush down. He should have been more careful with his journal. "And if you don't help me," Harrison said, trying to steer the conversation away, "you will see scenes like the one in the hall… among other things… _worse_ things."

At that moment, the door slammed open. "Lord Business! Another memory is playing! And the Dark Lord is naked!"

Harrison was _running_.

-O-

Turns out the kid was exaggerating. Voldemort had some nice black boxers that nicely accented his fine arse in Harrison's humble opinion. He was also covered in blood, which kind of dampened the sexiness factor.

This was definitely a Mordor memory.

"I give you one chance to stand down before I destroy you," Voldemort said coldly. "I've already killed your most skilled squads- don't make that into an army."

"He's only one man, men!" the General of the opposing army yelled. "We can take him!"

"Is that your final answer?" Voldemort called, black smoke surrounding his form. "I won't give you another chance!"

"Come at us, monster!"

The black smoke surrounding Voldemort completely engulfed him and expanded, red eyes staring eerily at the opposing army. The smoke quickly took the shape of a dragon with ridged scales.

Voldemort the Dragon screamed and ran at the army.

He laid waste to them, leaving no survivors. He would shout, knocking several knights back, or breath fire at them, leaving nothing but ashes behind. Their swords and arrows did nothing. The rocks thrown from catapults only slowed him down. It was a massacre.

The original battle lasted four hours, but Harrison managed to turn the scene off in a matter of minutes.

It didn't stop anyone from admiring Voldemort's sleek dragon form as he tore an army apart.

-O-

Some Ministry officials came down and helped find all the shards. Harrison, being the only one who could disable the shards without activating a memory, was allowed to skip classes. Not that he wouldn't do that anyway, but he was allowed for once.

"Lord Business?" A meek member of his cooking club came up to him. "We found another shard…" He gave the Ministry officials a side long glance, slightly shaking his head.

Oh, right. They were also there to record how much illegal shit Harrison got up to, and fine him, since they very well couldn't send him to Azkaban. Not for the first time, Harrison thanked his family for making good business deals.

He did a _lot_ of illegal things for Voldemort's sake. Mostly around Christmas.

"Alright, lead me to it."

This shard was stuck in one of the walls, which is why it wasn't easily found. Someone had activated it, and it showed Harrison cuddling Voldemort in his animagus form… a giant, golden lion.

"Shit."

Memory-Harrison transformed and left Voldemort before he woke up. It was another Mordor memory, when Voldemort was sick. Harrison managed to become corporal for a short time and defend Voldemort from some bandits, then cuddled Voldemort. He didn't want to imagine the teenagers watching his memory of tearing someone apart.

"Mister Potter, you will have to go to trial for this."

"Why? Can't you just write some more fines?"

"No."

Harrison used his best innocent eyes on the court, hoping it would lessen his sentence. The fine was not as big as he expected either way.

-O-

Draco Malfoy was the one who activated the next shard, one that somehow migrated to the Slytherin Common Room.

Harrison only heard about it afterwards. The memory shown successfully broke any faith the purebloods had in Lord Voldemort's goals. Harrison himself had no idea which memory it actually was since Voldemort had a lot of memories in the Slytherin Common Room, and he was a bit scared to ask, considering how many people glared at him who whenever he walked passed.

Well, glared at him more than usual anyway.

"Draco, what did you see?" Harrison said with a heavy sigh as he flopped into the chair next to him.

"Go away."

"No. You will tell me or I… I'll tell you about my wedding plans until you do!"

"What kind of threat is that?"

It took Malfoy three hours to cave.

"He was speaking to my grandfather," Malfoy admitted. "They were calling Him mudblood."

" _Yes_ …?"

"And He took an Unbreakable Vow," Malfoy said irritably. "He vowed to make the purebloods better, but His version of 'better' is vastly different from what we think."

"He was _pretty_ pissed when he took that vow," Harrison mused.

"And He took the _Oghma Infinium_ from my family," Malfoy finished bitterly.

"As far as I'm concerned, he did your family a favor. That thing is dangerous," Harrison said.

The _Oghma Infinium_ was an evil book. And that's all anyone needed to know about it. Trust Harrison.

"What will you do now that You-Know-Who has no supporters?" Draco asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"I'll take care of him. I'm still rich enough for the both of us, even if I've been fined pretty heavily. Besides, the vow pretty much ended when he died the first time, so he's under no obligation to continue being a Dark Lord."

"Then why-"

"Probably due to memory loss… and hating me, very likely."

"…Good luck with your fucking wedding, Potter."

"Thanks, Draco."

-O-

With all the shards collected, they formed an orb… which the Ministry quickly confiscated. Harrison felt very disorganized and paranoid about the orb. It held a lot of secrets, such as the time traveling one, and he didn't want some schmuck coming up and interrogating him about it. Voldemort probably knew- and Dumbledore- but everyone else? He didn't want to share.

He couldn't break into the Unspeakable Department (because he sucked), but someone else could…

"Hermione-"

"No."

"Come on! Help a friend out!"

"I said no. For the last time, Harry, I am not an Unspeakable!"

 **Author's Note:**

 **Not gonna lie, the dragon scene was inspired by Castlevania: Lord of the Shadows 2... the trailer anyway. Man, I was disappointed when the actual game came out and I'm turned into a damn rat instead of the glorious dragon.**

 **Moving on, thanks for the support and I apologize if the narrative sounds awkward. See ya next time.**

 **-Tempo**


	14. Chapter 14: The End For Now

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.**

Chapter 14:

The summer came. Harrison shipped the beetle and rat to America, never to be seen again. He went on dates with Voldemort… which mainly consisted of walks through the park in disguises, since Voldemort didn't want to be called a pedophile. Harrison's favorite part of these dates were the picnics… where every other couple stared at them weirdly until one of them took off their hoods…

Voldemort was amused to see most of them thought they were famous models, hence, the disguises. Harrison didn't care and enjoyed feeding the ducks.

Voldemort seemed almost… relaxed now that he didn't have an evil empire to rule. He still wasn't comfortable with touch, but Harrison didn't mind. He had eternity with this man after all.

Sirius and Remus would never be comfortable around Voldemort, and they made it blatantly clear they didn't approve of Harrison dating the man that killed Lily and James. Harrison couldn't blame them, so he never told them what they did on their dates- only telling them he was going out for a while.

Hermione was going out with Ron now, no thanks to Harrison's subtle nudging. Seeing as the Final Battle would never happen now, Ron had a much higher chance of surviving than last time around. Harrison also pointed Astoria Greengrass in Malfoy's direction, so that Hermione never had a chance of hooking up with him in grief.

Harrison admitted to himself that the matchmaking didn't make sense, since they didn't really know Ron this time around, but he had to try… for the other timeline's sake.

Neville and Luna were still going steady, but Harrison could sense a breakup coming. Maybe they'd be one of those couples that broke up and hooked back up every other month- or a permanent breakup and meet new people. Frankly, Harrison thought the second option was healthier, but it wasn't any of his business.

Everything was pretty much wrapped up, as far as Harrison was concerned. There was only surviving Hogwarts for a year and joining the potions guild legitimately and that was that. He felt… almost sad that it was ending. He had a lot of fun this go around.

Voldemort took his hand.

Harrison whipped his head around and stared owlishly at the older man, who was looking pointedly at the sky.

"Hogwarts is only the beginning," Voldemort said quietly. "And there is a whole world out there for you to explore. Don't feel sad. Be happy. There is more out there."

Harrison smiled at him softly.

-O-

Seventh year went by in a blur. Hermione and he got the top spots in academics- which didn't really mean much to Harrison, but he was proud of her. Voldemort didn't bother showing up to the ceremony, but Harrison wasn't disappointed. Remus and Sirius showed up, and that was enough.

Everything was wrapped up so nicely…

"Hermione, Neville." He wrapped his arms around their shoulders. "I'm going on a trip with Voldemort for the next couple of years. I'll write often and shit, so don't worry. Hermione," here, he gave her a bright smile, "good luck with becoming a lawyer. Neville," he poked his friend in the cheek, "you'll have no problemo with herbology, but good luck anyway."

"Thanks, Harry," Neville said, smiling. "Good luck not driving anyone insane with your antics."

"Too late," Harrison said with a smirk.

"Have slept with the invisibility cloak on around Voldemort?" Hermione asked.

"Yesss," Harrison admitted with an embarrassed laugh. "I'll send you a letter about all the embarrassing things we do. See ya in five years, guys!"

"Bye, Harry!"

"We'll miss you!"

"I'll miss you guys too! Be safe!"

 **Author's Note:**

 **At this point in my life, I just want to give them an ending.**


	15. A Rabbit's Musings

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.**

Chapter 15:

Rabbit stared down at the folder.

In it, a youngish looking man stared back at them. He had nicely colored green eyes, but they were nothing special. His hair could definitely use some work. All in all, average.

Harrison Potter- Potions Master, Guild Leader, alcoholic, in love with a psychopath…

His story was rather tamed compared to his counterparts, who each had their own unique style of doing things. Still, it was not the end for him. He would show up in his counterparts' worlds in order to hinder or help… which ever one he was in the mood for. Though amusing, it would be disastrous if he continued his shenanigans any longer…

They moved the folder away and ignored it.

Harrison Potter would live… and assist if in the mood for it.

For now, he would sleep.

The End.

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Thank you for reading for all these months. Or, if you've just found the fic, thanks for taking the time out of your day for reading this. I know we started high and hit the low, but fuck it. It's either this or never updating again, and so... I chose this... Fuck, I cannot enunciate. See ya next time at Temporarily on Fanfiction and have a good day/night!**

 **-Tempo**


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